EICKEM.EYER 


. 


/ 

£•/ 


THE  TRAVELLERS. 


Among  the  Pueblo  Indians 


BY 

CARL   EICKEMEYER 
M 

AND 

LILIAN   WESTCOTT   EICKEMEYER 


ILI  USTRATED    WITH  ''PHbY'O'jRAPHS    TAKEN    BY    THI-;    AUTHORS 


NEW  YORK 
THE    MERRIAM    COMPANY 

67   FIFTH   AVENUE 

^  \ 


CONTENTS, 


PAGE 

To  SAN  ILDEFONSO,     ...  .11 

FIVE  DAYS  IN  COCHITI,       .  .     57 

LIFE  AT  SANTO  DOMINGO,  .                 •   107 

TAOS,                              .  .                                  •   135 


M126782 


LIST  Or  ILLUSTRATIONS. 


PAGE 

THE  TRAVELLERS,         ......     Frontispiece. 

THE  OUTFIT, 15 

BED  OF  THE  TESUQUE,         .         .         .         .         .         .         .19 

MEXICAN  SETTLEMENT,        .......     23 

SAN  TLDEFONSO  PUEBLO,      .......     27 

MESQUITE  IN  BLOOM,  .         .         .         .         .         .         .         .31 

ESTUFA  AT  SAN  ILDEFONSO,        ...  •         •     35 

PLANTING  DANCE,        .         .  .....     39 

VIEW  FROM  THE  DIVIDE,     ...  ...     43 

NOON-DAY  CAMP, 47 

CAMP  ON  THE  MESA,    .         .         .         .         .         .         .         .51 

DESCENDING  FROM  THE  MESA, 55 

MRS.  JUAN  DE  JESUS  HERRARA,          .         .  .     61 

GALLO,  ..........     65 

GALLO,  ......  ...     69 

JUAN,     .  ....  .         .         .     73 

SCHOOL-HOUSE  AT  COCHITI,         .  ...     77 

SCHOOL-CHILDREN,        ...  ...     83 

COCHITI  INDIAN,  ...  ....     93 

9 


Xist  of  HUustrattons. 

PAGE 

PRIMITIVE  PLOUGHS,    .  .     99 

PENA  BLANCA  CHURCH,       .  .  .103 

CORRAL  AT  SANTO  DOMINGO,  .   in 
A  STREET  IN  SANTO  DOMINGO,                             .         .         .115 

IN  HOLIDAY  ATTIRE,   .  .119 

INDIAN  HOME,       .  .   123 

IN  THE  CAI^ON,     ...  .  .   I31 

IN  THE  FIELDS,    ......  .   139 

WEARY  OF  WORK,        .  .   143 

FATHER  AND  SON,        ....  .   14? 

TAGS  BUCKS,         ...  .151 

TAGS  PUEBLO,      .  .155 

ESTUFA  AT  TAGS,         .         .  •   159 

RUINS  OF  THE  CHURCH,       ....  .   163 

TAGS  INDIAN,        .  .167 

TAGS  CHURCH,      .  .171 

RETURNING  FROM  THE  FIELDS,  .    175 

INDIAN  PLOUGH  TEAM,  .   179 

ASTRAY,         .  .183 

A  YOUTHFUL  DANCER,         .  .187 

NAVAJOES,     ...  .  .        .  191 

10 


TO  SAN   ILDEFONSO. 

ON  a  spring  evening,  just 
at  sunset,  the  little  Western 
train  landed  us  in  quaint  old 
Santa  Fe,  the  city  of  the 
Holy  Faith.  Around  the 
door  of  the  station  some 
Mexicans  were  loitering  in 
their  usual  lazy  fashion,  as 
they  watched  the  passengers 
alight  and  enter  stages  in 
waiting  to  take  them  to  the  hotels.  Then,  their 
curiosity  being  satisfied,  they  lapsed  into  their 
former  state  of  indifference  and  waited  for  the  next 
excitement. 

We  had  journeyed  from  New  York  to  New  Mexico 
for  the  purpose  of  visiting  the  Pueblo  Indians,  and 
for  a  day  or  two  after  our  arrival  in  Santa  Fe  were 
kept  busy  preparing  for  the  Indian  trip,  which  we 

13 


tbe  pueblo  Italians. 

decided  to  take  in  a  prairie  schooner,  such  as  the  early 
Western  settlers  used  in  travelling  from  place  to  place. 
This  wagon  was  obtained  from  an  old  Jew,  from  whom 
we  also  hired  two  horses,  whose  appearance  at  the 
start  indicated  they  would  be  unable  to  finish  the  trip. 
We  were  assured,  however,  that  they  would  carry  us 
through,  in  spite  of  their  protruding  teeth,  prominent 
ribs,  and  swollen  knee-joints,  which  seemed  to  point 
to  the  contrary.  Our  wagon  was  loaded  with  a  little 
camp  stove  and  cooking  utensils,  two  cameras,  a  bag 
filled  with  provisions,  and  a  bag  containing  blankets. 
These  necessary  articles,  together  with  a  collection  of 
firearms,  completed  our  outfit  and  gave  us  an  air  of 
comfort  as  well  as  safety. 

Thus  equipped,  the  journey  began  about  five  o'clock 
on  a  beautiful  morning,  leaving  the  old  to\vn,  with  its 
sleeping  inhabitants,  in  the  distance,  as  we  travelled 
on  toward  the  north,  hoping  to  reach  San  Ildefonso, 
a  pueblo  about  twenty-seven  miles  from  Santa  Fe,  ere 
nightfall. 

The  road  over  which  we  passed  during  the  day  had 
on  either  side  deep  arroyos  formed  by  heavy  rainfalls 
which  come  suddenly  in  cloud-bursts,  washing  out  in 


Go  San  1flfcefon0o. 

the  soil  deep  gullies  with  perpendicular  sides  twenty 
feet  or  more  in  depth.  Along  the  roadside  and  back 
through  the  country  grew  the  scrub  cedar  with  its 
tiny  berries  and  rich  green  coloring.  Sage  bushes  of 
a  lighter  green,  and  little  clumps  of  buffalo  grass, 
sprang  up  here  and  there,  giving  a  grayish  cast  to 
the  whole  country. 

We  jogged  slowly  along  toward  the  divide  which 
forms  the  watershed  between  the  Pecos  and  the  upper 
portion  of  the  Rio  Grande,  and  when  that  point  was 
reached  such  a  picture  was  presented  to  our  enrap 
tured  gaze  as  is  seldom  seen,  and  when  once  seen  is 
never  forgotten.  Looking  northward,  lofty  hills 
stood  out  in  bold  relief,  the  brighter  coloring  of  those 
in  the  foreground  gradually  fading  into  the  delicate 
opalescent  tints  of  those  near  the  horizon,  where  they 
seemed  to  pale  and  fade  away  in  the  cloudless  blue  of 
the  summer  sky.  To  the  eastward  the  Santa  Fe 
Mountains,  with  their  gorgeous  coloring  and  snow- 
tipped  peaks  extending  far  into  the  blue  ether,  formed 
a  breastwork  over  which  the  morning  sun  gradually 
rose,  shedding  a  golden  glory  over  the  country  as  far 

as  the  eye  could  scan.     To  the  west,  and  rivalling  in 

17 


Bmonci  tbe  pueblo 

beauty  those  at  our  right  hand,  extended  in  unbroken 
line  the  Jamez  Mountains,  with  purple  bases,  and  deli 
cate  blue  tips  reaching  far  into  the  unfathomable  sky. 
Following  the  Tesuque,  a  small  stream  running  by 
the  roadside,  we  neared  the  pueblo  of  that  name;  but 
as  the  population  is  small  and  the  place  not  of  special 
interest,  our  stay  there  was  a  short  one,  our  destina 
tion  being  San  Ildefonso,  some  distance  further  north. 
Beyond  Tesuque  were  several  small  Mexican  settle 
ments,  their  one-story  adobe  houses  so  near  the  color 
of  the  soil  as  to  be  almost  imperceptible  until  one  is 
close  upon  them.  Surrounding  some  of  these  houses 
were  prosperous  fruit  ranches,  obtaining  moisture 
from  esaques,  or  irrigating  ditches,  which  carry  the 
water  of  the  neighboring  mountain  streams  and  rivers 
into  the  ranches,  and  take  the  place  of  rain,  which  is 
seldom  seen  in  this  part  of  the  country.  Along  the 
roadside,  here  and  there,  wrere  small  wooden  crosses 
upheld  by  stones  piled  one  upon  the  other.  These 
crosses,  we  afterward  learned,  marked  the  places 
where  coffins  had  been  rested  while  being  carried 
from  the  houses  to  their  final  resting-places. 

We  neared  San  Ildefonso  a  little  after  noon,  and  on 

18 


Go  San 

the  outskirts  of  the  pueblo  saw  many  Indians  in 
bright-colored  garments,  ploughing  in  the  fields. 
They  presented  a  most  picturesque  appearance,  mov 
ing  in  and  out  among  the  young  corn,  driving  yokes 
of  oxen  drawing  primitive  Indian  ploughs.  Others 
were  at  work  on  the  esaques  that  supply  the  fields 
with  water.  The  construction  of  these  irrigating 
ditches  takes  considerable  time,  skill,  and  much 
labor,  as  they  sometimes  carry  water  from  mountain 
streams  many  miles  away  to  the  section  under  cultiva 
tion.  They  are,  therefore,  made  quite  deep  and  very 
narrow,  to  allow  as  little  loss  of  water  by  evaporation 
as  possible.  The  fields  are  flooded  once  a  week,  and 
seemed  to  be  in  a  most  flourishing  condition. 

Proceeding  a  little  farther,  we  entered  the  sunny, 
dusty  plaza,  lined  on  all  sides  by  the  typical  Indian 
home,  a  two-story  adobe  house,  the  second  story  set 
ting  a  little  back  and  having  the  roof  of  the  first  as  a 
sort  of  front  yard.  Most  of  these  houses  are  entered 
by  small  doors  leading  from  the  plaza  into  a  large 
front  room,  though  some  Indians  retain  the  old  cus 
tom  which  existed  when  the  pueblos  were  attacked 
by  wandering  tribes  of  Apaches  and  Navajoes  that 


21 


Bmcmcj  tbe  pueblo  f ndfan0. 

roamed  through  the  country,  giving  the  peaceful  vil 
lage  Indians  much  anxiety  and  fear,  for  their  safety. 
They  consequently  have  no  doors  to  their  houses,  but 
enter  the  lower  rooms  through  a  hatchway  in  the 
roof.  In  front  of  all  the  houses  are  rudely  constructed 
ladders,  by  means  of  which  access  is  gained  to  the 
upper  rooms,  and  up  these  rickety  ladders  children  of 
all  ages  and  sizes  ascend,  those  of  a  larger  growth 
carrying  on  their  backs  little  ones  whose  mothers  feel 
not  the  slightest  anxiety  as  they  view  from  a  distance 
the  perilous  ascent. 

We  drove  to  the  home  of  a  thrifty  Indian  who 
speaks  fairly  well  the  English  language,  and  were 
most  cordially  greeted  by  his  wife,  who,  on  seeing 
our  approach,  hastened  down  the  ladder  to  welcome 
us.  On  entering  the  abode  the  first  objects  noticed 
were  the  pictures  that  hung  on  the  white  walls  of  the 
rooms.  They  were  of  a  purely  religious  nature,  rep 
resenting  Christ,  the  Virgin  Mary,  and  the  Saints. 
They  were  painted  on  wood  and  were  brought  from 
Mexico  many  years  ago.  vSo  old  are  they  that  they 
have  become  dimmed  and  faded  by  the  ravages  of 
time,  but  are  none  the  less  sacred  in  the  eyes  of  the 


Go  San 

owner  on  that  account.  In  a  back  room,  which  is  the 
living  room  of  the  family,  were  two  fire-places.  One 
of  these  was  assigned  to  us,  while  in  the  other  our 
hostess  prepared  her  noonday  meal  of  tortillas,  dried 
beef,  and  coffee.  It  was  a  most  interesting  sight  to 
see  her  seated  before  the  little  corner  fire-place  mak 
ing  tortillas,  a  concoction  of  flour  and  water  mixed 
together  and  kneaded  as  our  bread  is.  When  it  was 
considered  the  right  consistence,  it  wras  rolled  out  in 
flat  round  discs  like  pancakes  and  cooked  on  a  piece 
of  stone  upheld  by  an  iron  tripod  over  a  blazing  wood 
fire.  They  required  several  turnings,  and  when  fin 
ished  we  were  presented  with  a  sample  of  the  morn 
ing's  baking,  but  the  toughened  mass  was  not  very 
palatable.  We  in  turn  gave  them  some  of  our  provi 
sions,  which  they  ate  with  a  keen  relish  as  they  sat  on 
the  hard  cemented  floor  in  a  semicircle. 

After  enjoying  our  meal,  we  decided  to  go  the 
rounds  of  the  pueblo  and  see  the  various  places  of  in 
terest  to  be  found  there.  Our  host  conducted  us  first 
to  the  estufa,  or  council  house,  situated  just  outside 
the  main  plaza.  It  is  here  that  all  important  ques 
tions  are  decided  and  where  the  Indians  practise  for 

25 


Bmong  tbe  pueblo  fhtfttans. 

their  dances.  The  estufa,  like  the  other  houses  in  the 
pueblo,  is  made  of  adobe,  but  unlike  them,  being- 
circular  in  form,  it  is  a  conspicuous  figure  in  the  vil 
lage.  The  building  is  lighted  only  by  means  of  an 
opening  in  the  roof.  This  opening  also  serves  as 
entrance  to  the  place.  Having  climbed  the  steps 
that  lead  to  the  roof,  we  entered  through  the  hatch 
way  and  descended  by  a  ladder,  the  poles  of  which 
protruded  high  above  the  building.  All  that  could 
be  seen  in  the  dimly-lighted  room  was  the  fire-place, 
in  the  centre  directly  under  the  ladder,  and  an 
adobe  settee  projecting  from  the  wall  of  the  build 
ing.  Finding  very  little  of  interest  in  the  bare, 
dark  room,  we  wended  our  way  in  the  direction  of 
the  home  of  the  governor  to  pay  our  respects  to  that 
celebrity. 

He  was  seated  in  the  front  room  of  his  little  house, 
busily  engaged  making  moccasins.  We  watched  him 
for  some  time  at  this  humble  occupation,  greatly  in 
terested  in  his  work.  He  pierced  small  holes  in  the 
soles,  and  corresponding  ones  in  the  uppers,  through 
which  he  ran  pieces  of  sinew.  The  bead  work  for 

which  the  Indian  is  famous  is  done  in  a  similar  way. 

26 


Go  San  fll&efoneo. 

When  we  had  become  well  versed  in  the  art  of  shoe- 
making,  the  governor  left  his  work  and  took  us  into 
an  inner  room,  where  his  wife  was  grinding  wheat. 
She  was  kneeling  before  a  slanting  stone  slab,  and 
with  a  small  oblong-shaped  stone  in  her  hand  she 
rubbed  the  wheat  between  the  two  in  a  way  similar 
to  rubbing  clothes  on  a  washboard.  This  work  is 
always  done  by  the  women. 

By  the  aid  of  our  interpreter  quite  a  lengthy  con 
versation  was  carried  on  with  the  governor,  in  which 
the  affairs  of  the  pueblo  were  discussed.  The  gov 
ernment  was  one  of  the  first  subjects  inquired  into, 
and  we  were  greatly  surprised  to  find  such  a  complex 
form  existing.  It  is  twofold  in  character,  resembling 
both  the  monarchial  and  republican.  The  former  is 
exemplified  in  the  office  of  cacique,  or  chief,  wrho  was 
originally  appointed  for  life  by  the  governor  of  New 
Mexico,  to  be  succeeded  by  his  eldest  son.  The  lat 
ter,  or  republican  form,  is  shown  by  the  annual  elec 
tion  of  a  governor  and  twelve  councilmen,  whose 
business  it  is  to  direct  the  affairs  of  the  pueblo  and  to 
decide  all  important  questions  that  may  arise.  They 

are  second  in  authority  only  to  the  cacique,  who  has 

29 


Bmong  tbe  pueblo  Indians. 

power  to  veto  any  decision  not  to  his  liking.  The 
officer  next  in  power  is  the  fiscal,  wrho  looks  after  the 
religious  affairs  of  the  pueblo,  and  instructs  the  boys 
and  girls  in  the  tenets  of  Catholicism.  He  is  ap 
pointed  by  the  cacique,  whose  duty  it  also  is  to  nomi 
nate  three  candidates  for  the  office  of  governor  and 
three  for  that  of  war  chief,  one  of  whom,  in  each 
case,  is  elected  by  the  people  to  fill  the  office.  The 
duty  of  the  war  chief  is  similar  to  that  of  our  police 
justice.  He  has  power  to  decide  all  questions  of 
right  and  wrong  that  may  arise,  and  to  impose  a  fine 
of  grain  or  money  upon  the  offender,  according  to 
the  magnitude  of  the  offence.  The  election  of  gov 
ernor,  councilmen  and  war  chief  takes  place  each 
year  at  harvest  time  in  the  estufa,  where  the  men  and 
all  boys  capable  of  working  in  the  fields  congregate 
to  vote  orally  for  their  favorite  candidates. 

We  were,  of  course,  anxious  to  attend  a  business 
meeting  and  see  the  Indian  conduct  it,  but  they  are 
very  reticent  concerning  their  council  meetings,  never 
allowing  outsiders  to  be  present.  Seeing  our  disap 
pointment,  the  governor  sought  to  conciliate  us  by  in 
viting  us  to  be  present  that  evening  to  witness  the 

3° 


Go  San  f  Ifcefonso. 

practice  for  a  dance  which  was  to  take  place  the  fol 
lowing  morning  in  the  plaza. 

Dancing  is  one  of  the  principal  pastimes  of  the 
Indian  and  one  very  often  indulged  in,  so  that  any 
one,  making  even  a  limited  stay  at  a  pueblo,  is  likely 
to  witness  this  most  interesting  sight  before  his  de 
parture. 

When  the  time  arrived  to  join  the  dancers,  we 
walked  toward  the  estufa,  where  the  smoke  and  light 
from  the  camp-fire  below  could  be  seen  coming  out 
of  the  roof  through  the  hatchway.  The  bucks  were 
chanting,  and  the  beating  of  the  drum  to  give  the 
dancers  time  reached  us  with  muffled  sound.  Fol 
lowing  our  guide  up  the  steps,  we  descended  the  lad 
der  through  clouds  of  smoke  and  found  ourselves  in 
the  midst  of  the  august  assemblage.  It  was  hard  to 
imagine  that  the  room,  with  the  dim  light  from  the 
camp-fire  shining  on  the  grotesque  forms  of  the 
dancers,  was  the  same  we  had  visited  during  the 
afternoon,  so  great  was  the  difference  in  its  appear 
ance.  On  the  adobe  settee  sat  the  squaws,  their 
papooses  either  in  their  arms  or  wrapped  in  blankets 
lying  on  the  floor  at  their  feet.  The  old  bucks  were 

33 


Bmong  tbc  pueblo  fhtdians. 

seated  on  the  floor  in  two  lines  opposite  each  other, 
with  the  drummer  at  their  head  facing  the  fire.  The 
younger  bucks  or  warriors,  and  the  squaws,  formed  in 
line  two  abreast :  first  two  bucks,  then  two  squaws,  and 
so  on,  dancing  to  the  time  given  by  the  drummer  and 
the  chanters.  The  scene  presented  was  ghostly,  the 
dimly- lighted,  smoky  atmosphere  giving  a  certain 
weirdness  to  the  shadowy  moving  forms. 

As  the  dance  progressed  some  of  the  children,  who 
dance  quite  as  earnestly  as  their  parents,  joined  in, 
and  young  and  old  went  through  the  movements  with 
great  activity.  The  time  of  the  dancing  is  regular 
for  intervals,  then  there  will  be  one  or  two  beats  left 
out,  the  dancers  all  the  while  keeping  time  perfectly 
with  their  feet.  When  the  line,  headed  by  two  of  the 
most  athletic  bucks,  had  encircled  the  hall,  the  two 
lines  faced  each  other,  spread  out,  crossed  over,  then 
swung  around  and  returned  to  their  original  positions. 
There  is  quite  a  perceptible  difference  in  the  dancing 
of  the  buck  and  squaw  :  the  former  lifts  his  feet  high 
from  the  ground  as  he  goes  through  the  tiresome 
motions  that  constitute  his  part  of  the  programme, 

while  the  squaw  simply  shuffles  her  feet  along,  sway- 

34 


£o  San  flldefonso. 

ing  her  body  from  side  to  side,  and  holding  out  her 
hands  as  if  offering  something  in  prayer. 

The  dance  practice  was  over  at  midnight,  when, 
well  pleased  with  the  novel  entertainment,  we  returned 
to  the  prairie  schooner  which  had  been  drawn  up  in 
front  of  the  house  in  which  our  dinner  had  been 
cooked  at  the  little  corner  fire-place. 

Soon  all  was  still,  and  sleep  reigned  throughout  the 
pueblo.  On  returning  from  the  estufa  the  dancers 
had  wearily  thrown  themselves  down  on  pallets  that 
lay  on  the  ground  in  front  of  the  houses  where  the 
other  members  of  their  families  were  already  resting, 
with  the  deep  blue  star-lit  sky  overhead  for  a,  canopy. 
Slowly  the  waning  moon  rose  in  all  the  majesty  of 
her  silvery  beauty,  and  as  the  mellow  rays  of  light 
touched  the  prostrate  forms  of  the  sleepers,  they 
seemed  to  work  a  perfect  transformation,  softening 
the  hard  lines  on  many  faces. 

We  were  awakened  next  morning  at  sunrise  by  the 
governor  as  he  stood  in  the  centre  of  the  plaza  calling 
to  the  people  to  prepare  for  the  dance  to  take  place 
directly  after  breakfast.  Immediately  all  was  astir, 

as  those  who  were  to  take  part  in  the  festivity  hast- 

37 


Bmoncj  tbe  pueblo  fTndians. 

ened  to  attire  themselves  in  suitable  costume.  In  a 
short  time  gaudily-arrayed  figures  appeared  on  the 
scene,  coming  first  from  one  house,  then  from  another, 
and  wended  their  way  in  the  direction  of  the  estufa, 
where  the  participants  congregated  previous  to  their 
appearance  in  the  plaza. 

When  the  dancers  had  collected  and  the  word  was 
given  to  start,  the  first  set,  about  thirty  in  number,  filed 
from  the  estufa  into  the  plaza,  marching  in  lines  two 
abreast.  They  were  followed  by  a  band  of  chanters, 
consisting  of  the  bucks  who  were  too  old  to  dance. 
The  dancers  were  beautifully  decorated.  The  bucks 
were  stripped  to  the  waist,  their  hands  and  part  of 
the  forearms  painted  white,  from  which  ran  a  line  of 
white  spots  to  the  shoulder,  and  then  clown  to  the 
small  of  the  back,  resembling  the  fallow  deer.  On 
the  upper  part  of  the  arms  were  armlets  of  rawhide, 
also  painted  white,  through  which  were  stuck  green 
sprigs  of  the  cottonwood  tree.  Around  the  waist  was 
a  white  belt  or  sash  of  wool,  having  large  tassels  on 
the  ends,  and  holding  in  place  an  embroidered  skirt 
reaching  nearly  to  the  knee.  White  knee  breeches 

were  worn  under  the  skirt.      Around  the  left  leg  was 

38 


Go  San  ffldefondo. 

a  band  of  worsted  tied  in  a  bow,  and  around  the  right 
a  string- of  bells.  From  the  back  of  the  belt  hung  the 
skin  of  the  red  fox.  White  moccasins,  with  a  decora 
tion  of  skunk  skin  at  the  heel,  completed  the  costume. 
Each  carried  in  his  right  hand  rattles  made  from 
gourds  which  grow  wild  in  large  quantities  near  the 
Indian  villages;  and  in  the  left,  branches  of  the  cot- 
tonwood  tree. 

The  squaw  wore  a  head  decoration  of  peculiar  de 
sign,  made  of  a  thin  flat  board,  in  shape  similar  to 
the  facade  of  the  Indian  church.  It  had  three  ser 
rated  vertical  projections,  with  an  open  space  in  the 
centre  as  if  for  a  bell.  It  was  painted  white,  with 
borders  of  green  and  yellow,  and  from  the  peaks 
floated  the  feathers  of  the  wild  turkey.  The  dress 
was  of  black  woollen  material,  and  hung  a  little  below 
the  knee.  It  was  gathered  over  the  right  shoulder 
and  again  under  the  left  arm,  leaving  the  arms  and 
one  shoulder  bare.  A  woollen  belt  of  unique  design 
and  bright  coloring  offset  the  costume  and  relieved 
the  blackness  of  the  dress. 

On    the    arrival    of  the  dancers    in   the   plaza,    the 

drummer  took  position   beside  them,  and  at  his  rear 

41 


Bmong  tbe  flMieblo  1Tn&fans. 

stood  the  group  of  chanters  facing  one  another.  The 
dance,  which  was  much  the  same  as  that  of  the  night 
before,  had  not  progressed  far  when  another  set  of 
about  the  same  number  filed  into  the  plaza  from  the 
other  end  of  the  pueblo  and  went  through  the  same 
performance. 

We  spent  the  remainder  of  the  day  taking  photo 
graphs  of  the  place  and  of  some  of  the  people,  and  in 
walking  to  an  old  butte,  where,  it  is  claimed,  the 
pueblo  was  originally  situated ;  but  like  the  old  cliff 
dwellings,  the  former  homes  of  the  Pueblo  Indians, 
the  place  was  deserted.  It  could  be  seen,  however, 
from  arrowheads  and  old  pieces  of  pottery  found 
there,  that  at  some  remote  period,  during  the  prehis 
toric  ages,  the  place  must  have  been  inhabited. 

During  the  evening  we  had  several  callers,  among 
whom  was  a  young  Indian  of  good  type,  who  could 
speak  English  as  well  as  Spanish  and  his  native 
Indian  language.  It  is  a  curious  fact  that  the  lan 
guage  spoken  in  pueblos  situated  within  a  short  dis 
tance  of  each  other  differs,  while  sometimes  in  two, 
many  miles  apart,  the  same  is  spoken.  Fortunately 

all   the    Pueblo   Indians   speak  Spanish,   so  that  they 

42 


Go  San 

may  converse  one  with  the  other,  even  though  their 
native  languages  be  different.  Being  in  doubt  as  to 
whether  the  pueblos  we  intended  visiting  had  Eng 
lish-speaking  Indians,  we  decided  to  take,  as  inter 
preter,  Juan,  the  young  Indian,  who  seemed  de 
lighted  with  the  idea  of  making  a  third  to  our  party. 
He  told  us  he  had  made  several  trips  to  the  different 
pueblos  and  had  at  one  time  spent  a  year  among  the 
Utes,  whose  customs  he  still  followed.  His  long 
black  hair  was  parted  in  Ute  style,  and  on  special 
occasions  he  used  quite  a  quantity  of  war  paint.  He 
was  unmarried,  but  told  us  he  expected  to  take  the 
all-important  step  at  harvest  time,  when  he  would 
have  saved  five  dollars,  the  amount  necessary  to  pay 
the  Mexican  priest  to  perform  the  ceremony.  The 
prospect  of  earning  the  five  dollars  and  winning  the 
maid  before  harvest  time  probably  made  the  parting 
with  her  less  hard.  Whether  that  Avere  the  case 
or  not,  there  were  no  tears  or  sad  looks  either  from 
Juan  or  his  lady  love  when  we  left  San  Ildefonso  the 
following  day,  just  as  the  sun  rose  over  the  little 
village. 

The  morning  was  beautiful.      At  our  right,  and  run- 

45 


Bmonc;  tbe  jpueblo  ITnMans. 

ning  by  the  pueblo,  the  Rio  Grande  flowed,  the  clear 
sparkling  water  dancing  in  the  sunlight  as  it  hurried 
on  in  its  course  through  the  canon  to  the  gulf.  A 
soft  mist  seemed  to  overhang  the  neighboring  hills 
like  a  mantle  of  gauze,  through  which  the  varied  tints 
shone  in  subdued  coloring  and  ethereal  beauty. 

We  started  through  Alamo  canon,  which  runs  par 
allel  with  White  Rock  cafion,  containing  the  bed  of 
the  Rio  Grande.  The  two  are  divided  in  places  by 
high  ledges  of  rock,  the  top  of  which,  for  about  a 
thickness  of  one  hundred  feet,  is  of  volcanic  origin  ; 
and  below  it  are  strata  of  different  kinds  of  rock,  sand, 
and  clay,  varying  from  white  to  light  red  and  blue, 
with  all  the  intervening  shades  so  perfectly  blended 
as  to  make  it  impossible  to  detect  the  joining  of  one 
color  with  another.  The  rocks  average  in  height 
about  three  hundred  feet,  and  above  them,  on  the  west, 
tower  the  San  Ildefonso  range,  where  the  Indian 
boys  from  the  pueblo  hunt  deer  and  antelope. 

The  trip  up  the  canon  was  like  driving  through  a 
park;  the  cactus  in  bloom  with  its  yellow,  white  and 
red  flowers,  and  the  valley  covered  with  fragrant  bal 
sam,  sage  bushes,  and  clumps  of  buffalo  grass.  There 

46 


£o  San  TOefcmso. 

was  good  shooting  all  the  way,  the  cotton-tails  and 
wild  doves  being  plentiful,  while  an  occasional  jack 
rabbit  ran  in  and  out  among  the  sage  bushes,  giving 
us  a  lively  chase  for  him. 

About  noon  we  struck  camp  just  off  the  road.  After 
unloading  the  wagon  and  setting  up  the  little  stove, 
Juan  started  up  the  canon  toward  the  Rio  Grande  for 
water.  He  had  been  gone  but  a  short  time  when  a 
strange  noise  was  heard.  Gradually  the  sound  came 
nearer,  and  coming  toward  us,  down  the  canon,  was 
a  flock  of  goats,  sheep  and  lambs,  driven  by  a  Mexi 
can.  The  driver  could  not  speak  our  language  nor 
we  his,  but  by  signs  he  was  made  to  understand  that 
we  wanted  to  purchase  a  lamb,  and  he  seemed  very 
willing  to  let  us  have  one.  When  Juan  returned  with 
the  water  he  played  the  part  of  butcher,  killing  and 
dressing  the  lamb  and  preparing  it  to  be  cooked. 
Soon  dinner  was  on  the  fire,  and  in  about  twenty 
minutes  from  the  time  the  lamb  was  running  around 
we  were  eating  him. 

Our  camp  for  the  night  was  behind  a  clump  of 
trees,  near  the  narrow-gauge  railroad  which  runs 
through  this  part  of  the  country ;  and  after  supper 

49 


Bmong  the  pueblo 

our  bed  in  the  wagon  was  prepared  by  spreading  a 
pair  of  blankets  on  the  floor  for  a  mattress,  and  using 
a  pair  for  covering — then, >  putting  the  canvas  wagon 
cover  over  the  hoops,  the  bed  was  ready  for  us.  We 
tied  the  horses  to  a  tree  near  by,  and  entered  our 
sleeping  apartment,  while  Juan,  wrapping  his  blanket 
around  him,  lay  on  the  ground  by  the  side  of  the 
wagon . 

We  arose  at  sunrise  next  morning,  and,  after  en 
joying  our  breakfast  of  lamb,  potatoes  and  coffee, 
journeyed  upward  through  a  very  rough  and  moun 
tainous  country,  broken  up  by  high  hills  and  deep 
arroyos.  About  noon  we  struck  camp  on  the  dusty 
road  beside  a  little  Mexican  settlement.  An  old 
Mexican,  who  brought  us  some  water,  sat  beside  the 
fence  watching  us  prepare  dinner,  which  we  ate  sit 
ting  under  the  wagon,  to  protect  us  from  the  heat  of 
the  sun. 

Beyond  this  settlement  a  steep  hill  led  to  the  bare 
and  barren  mesa,  where  there  was  not  even  a  sage 
bush  in  sight.  Prairie  on  all  sides  of  us,  and  we,  like 
tiny  specks  upon  a  great  ocean,  sailed  on  and  on  with 
nothing  visible  but  prairie  and  sky.  Slowly  the  sun 

5° 


fto  San  fllDefonso, 

rode  on  in  glory  toward  the  west,  and,  as  it  sank  to 
rest  below  the  horizon,  twinkling  stars  came  out  one 
by  one,  until  the  sky,  that  a  short  time  before  was  all 
aglowr  with  the  sun's  roseate  rays,  was  illumined  by 
the  lesser  light  of  the  stars,  which  looked  protectingly 
down  on  us  as  we  slept.  During  the  night  the  wind 
came  up  and  blew  across  the  prairie  with  terrific 
force,  almost  taking  the  wagon  cover  with  it  in  its 
mad  sweep  over  the  mesa,  and  it  was  not  until  the 
cover  had  been  tied  down  with  a  strong  rope  that  Ave 
felt  at  all  secure.  Then,  pinning  a  mackintosh  over 
the  opening  at  the  foot  to  keep  the  wind  out,  wTe  tried 
to  settle  ourselves,  but  it  was  not  possible  to  sleep 
long.  As  there  were  no  trees  around,  the  horses  had 
to  be  tied  to  the  back  of  the  wagon,  and  first  one, 
then  the  other,  would  jar  it,  while  occasionally  a 
horse's  head  was  thrust  under  the  cover  as  he  tried  to 
get  at  our  feet.  Next  morning  the  mackintosh  that 
had  been  used  as  a  curtain  Avas  found  chewed  into 
ribbons,  and  the  horse  had  quieted  down. 

Our  supply  of  water  was  so  low  that  there  was  very 
little  coffee  for  breakfast,  and  we  dispensed  altogether 

with   our   usual   morning's  ablution,  a   ceremony  we 

53 


2lmoncj  tbe  fweblo  KnMans. 

were  often  obliged  to  omit  during  the  trip.  How 
ever,  Juan  assured  us  he  could  get  water  a  little  way 
down  the  road,  but,  after  driving  on  hour  after  hour 
and  still  no  water,  we  began  to  doubt  his  knowledge 
of  the  country.  Still  he  persisted,  "  It  is  right  down 
there." 

The  Indian  has  no  idea  of  distance.  One  time, 
when  asked  how  far  a  certain  place  was,  Juan  replied, 
"Three  days  with  burros  and  one  day  with  a  horse." 
Our  hope  now  was  that  our  distance  from  water  would 
not  be  reckoned  with  burros,  for  as  the  sun  shone 
more  brightly  our  thirst  became  almost  unbearable. 
Still  we  drove  on,  and  no  water. 

Our  descent  from  the  mesa  to  the  plain  below  was 
over  a  steep,  narrow  and  rough  road  winding  around 
the  edge  of  a  cliff  about  nine  hundred  feet  in  height. 
Applying  the  brakes,  we  reached  the  foot  in  safety, 
and  to  our  great  joy  and  relief  a  tiny  stream  was 
running  along  by  the  roadside.  We  arrived  here  just 
in  time,  for  the  little  stream  gradually  grew  less  and 
less,  and  then  vanished  altogether.  Juan  told  us  it 
would  appear  again  next  morning,  and  that  this  was 

quite  a  common  occurrence. 

54 


DESCENDING     FROM     THE     MESA. 


II. 
FIVE  DAYS  IN  COCniTI. 


SAN  JUAN'S   DAY. 


OUR  arrival  at  Cochiti,  late 
in  the  afternoon,  was  wit 
nessed  by  several  squaws  of 
the  village,  who  were  filling- 
water  jars  down  at  the  rio. 
They  paused  in  their  work  as 
we  drew  near  and  forded  the 
river,  greeting  us  in  the  usual 
friendly  manner;  then,  with 
their  burdens  skilfully  bal 
anced  on  their  heads,  they  passed  on  up  the  sandy 
hill  that  forms  the  approach  to  the  little  settlement. 
Half-way  up  the  hill  were  fruit  orchards,  in  the 
corners  of  which  were  cribs  built  on  the  ends  of 
long  poles.  They  looked  like  small  rustic  summer 
houses;  but  instead  of  being  used  for  pleasure,  they 
were  guard-houses,  where  some  of  the  men  keep 
watch  at  night  over  the  fruit  near  by. 

59 


Bmong  tbe  pueblo 

Cochiti  has  a  population  of  nearly  four  hundred 
Indians  and  about  half  as  many  Mexicans.  It  is  the 
only  pueblo  we  visited  having  a  Mexican  settlement, 
it  being  contrary  to  the  wishes  of  the  Government  to 
have  the  two  races  quartered  together.  But  some 
how  or  other  the  Mexican  element  has  worked  its 
way  into  Cochiti,  and  in  several  instances  the  Indian 
and  Mexican  have  intermarried,  making  the  sepa 
ration  of  the  races  impossible. 

Juan  conducted  us  to  the  home  of  a  friend — Juan 
de  Jesus  Herrara — who  with  his  family,  consisting  of 
an  aged  father  and  mother,  a  wife  and  three  children, 
lived  in  the  little  adobe  house  that  for  the  follow 
ing  few  days  was  our  home.  One  of  the  two  rooms 
on  the  ground  floor  was  assigned  to  us  for  use  as  a 
bedroom,  kitchen  and  reception-room  during  our 
stay.  We  spread  the  blankets  on  the  floor  in  one 
corner,  and  our  bedroom  was  ready  for  use ;  light 
ing  a  fire  on  the  hearth  and  preparing  our  evening 
meal  made  the  kitchen  a  reality,  while  entertaining 
half  a  dozen  old  bucks  and  squaws  who  had  been 
drawn  to  the  spot  out  of  curiosity  gave  the  place 

quite  the  air  of  a  reception-room. 

60 


MRS.    JUAN     DE    JESUS    HERRARA. 


San  Juan's  5>av>. 

Our  visitors  seated  themselves  on  the  floor,  watch 
ing  us  prepare  supper.  Unfortunately  we  could  not 
converse  with  them,  as  they  could  not  speak  English, 
and  Juan,  our  interpreter,  had  gone  out  to  see  the 
place  and  to  make  friends  among  the  Indians.  It 
was  a  strange  sight.  The  little  cellar-like  room  had 
only  the  light  of  a  single  candle  shining  dimly 
through  it,  and  the  smoke  from  cigarettes  the  bucks 
were  enjoying  made  the  forms  appear  almost  ghostly 
in  their  indistinctness.  When  our  visitors  had  par 
taken  of  crackers  and  coffee,  their  curiosity  being 
fully,  and  their  appetites  partially,  satisfied,  they 
left. 

We  retired  early,  but  the  place  was  so  noisy  that 
it  was  impossible  to  sleep.  At  sundown  the  church 
bell  had  rung  for  about  an  hour,  after  which  a  shot 
gun  was  fired  in  the  plaza.  More  bell -ringing  fol 
lowed,  and  the  gun  was  fired  twice;  still  more  bell- 
ringing,  and  the  gun  was  fired  a  third  time.  This 
alternate  ringing  and  firing,  together  with  violin- 
playing  by  some  Mexicans  who  wandered  through 
the  plaza,  making  noisy  demonstrations  all  the  while, 

ushered  in  San  Juan's  Day;   and  at  daybreak  the  fol- 

63 


among  tbe  jpueblo  Unmans. 

lowing  morning  (Sunday)  the  whole  community  were 
ready  to  participate  in  the  celebration. 

The  little  adobe  church  with  its  wooden  cross 
was  the  scene  of  the  earliest  activity,  as  old  and 
young,  Indian  and  Mexican,  wended  their  way  in 
the  direction  of  the  sanctuary  to  be  present  at  mass, 
conducted  by  a  Mexican  priest  from  a  neighboring 
town. 

We  entered  with  the  rest,  and  found  ourselves  in  a 
large,  bare  room  with  cemented  floor,  on  which  there 
were  no  seats.  The  side  walls  of  the  church  were 
adorned  from  door  to  altar  with  small  crosses,  between 
which  had  been  placed  alternately  candlesticks  and 
pictures  of  the  saints.  On  either  side  of  the  altar 
\vere  paintings  of  Christ,  considered  of  great  value, 
and  claimed  to  have  been  brought  from  Mexico  hun 
dreds  of  years  ago.  On  the  altar,  which  is  surrounded 
by  a  wooden  railing  of  rude  workmanship,  were  can 
dles  and  images  of  the  saints. 

We  were  greatly  interested  to  see  what  the  inge 
nuity  of  the  Indian  had  accomplished  in  the  art  of  in 
terior  church  decoration.  On  the  rafters  were  placed 

good-sized  logs,  faced  off,  the   flat  side  being  turned 

64 


San 

down,  and  on  this  flattened  surface  were  original 
characteristic  paintings  and  drawings  of  bear  and 
buffalo  hunted  by  Indians.  The  dimly-lighted  church 
with  its  close  atmosphere  had  a  sepulchral  appear 
ance,  and  we  were  glad  to  get  once  more  in  the  open 
air  and  leave  the  Indian  to  hear  mass. 

Later  during  the  morning,  going  into  the  gov 
ernor's  house,  we  came  suddenly  upon  a  most  inter 
esting  sight.  In  the  centre  of  the  room,  which  had 
been  cleared  of  everything  but  an  olla  of  water,  sat 
seventeen  bucks,  forming  a  circle.  They  were  singing 
in  a  sort  of  nasal  twang,  and  at  our  entrance  kept  on 
with  the  inharmonious  strains,  not  so  much  as  look 
ing  at  us.  One  of  the  bucks  had  a  drum  resembling 
a  good-sized  cask.  These  drums  are  made  from  solid 
pieces  of  wood,  which  the  Indians  hollow  out  and 
tightly  draw  drumheads  of  sheepskin  over  the  ends. 
Opposite  the  drummer  sat  the  war  chief,  a  vicious- 
looking  fellow,  wearing  a  belt  of  Winchester  car 
tridges.  He  sat  there  erectly,  not  a  muscle  in  his 
body  moving  except  those  he  necessarily  used  in  pro 
ducing  the  nasal  twang  that  constituted  the  song. 

All  the  while  they  smoked  cigarettes  rolled  in   corn 

67 


Bmong  tbe  pueblo  fTndians. 

husks,  the  smoking  not   interfering  in  the  least  with 
the  singing. 

They  sang  thus  until  noon,  when  it  was  time  to  pre 
pare  for  the  games  which  were  to  take  place  in  the 
plaza  after  dinner.  The  festivities  began  with  the 
celebrated  game  of  gallo,  which  was  most  thoroughly 
enjoyed  by  all  but  the  poor  rooster,  whose  unearthly 
cries  elicited  not  the  slightest  feeling  of  sympathy 
among  the  many  spectators  assembled  on  the  house 
tops  near  by,  keenly  enjoying  the  cruel  sport  and 
eagerly  applauding  wrhen  a  good  point  was  made  by 
the  contestants.  Every  young  Indian  and  Mexican 
who  could  procure  a  horse  of  any  kind  joined  in  the 
game.  It  was  played  by  two  at  a  time,  an  Indian  and 
a  Mexican  evenly  matched.  The  two  came  together 
in  the  centre  of  the  plaza,  where  a  live  rooster  was 
brought,  his  feet  tied  together  with  rawhide.  Each 
took  hold  of  one  of  the  legs,  and,  at  the  word  given 
by  the  governor  of  the  pueblo,  pulled,  trying  to  get 
possession  of  the  bird,  which  all  the  while  was  screech 
ing  as  if  in  terrible  agony.  The  contestants  violently 
swayed  from  side  to  side,  pulling  with  all  their 

strength.      Finally,  the  Indian  gained  an  advantage, 

68 


San  Juan's  Bag. 

and,  spurring  his  pony,  ran  off  with  the  rooster,  nearly 
dragging  his  opponent  from  his  horse,  ainid  wild 
shouts  from  the  excited  spectators  on  the  roofs.  It 
seemed  as  if  the  bird  must  be  torn  apart,  but,  besides 
losing  its  breath  and  a  few  feathers,  it  stood  the 
ordeal  very  well. 

The  Mexican  then  rode  to  the  centre  of  the  plaza 
and  faced  the  audience,  while  the  Indian  started  at 
one  end  with  the  rooster  in  his  right  hand.  He 
rode  by  the  Mexican  at  full  speed,  and  in  passing 
struck  him  over  the  head  with  it.  The  Mexican 
tried  to  catch  the  bird,  but  failed.  They  fought 
in  this  way  for  some  time,  until  both  were  covered 
with  feathers  and  blood  from  the  now  lifeless  roos 
ter,  but  neither  seemed  to  gain  much  advantage, 
both  being  exhausted.  The  rest  of  the  horse 
men  standing  near,  wishing  for  a  chance,  rode 
up  and  separated  them.  In  the  break  which  fol 
lowed,  the  one  with  the  rooster  started  off  at  full 
speed  for  his  home,  closely  followed  by  the  rest  of 
the  horsemen,  who  tried  to  get  possession  of  it, 
but  he  succeeded  in  reaching  home  without  parting 
company  with  the  poor  lifeless  thing,  thus  becoming 


Bmong  tbe  pueblo  Unfcians. 

the  nappy  possessor  of  the  bird  and  the  victor  of 
the  game. 

Another  game  was  started  by  two  others,  and  so  on 
until  each  had  a  chance  to  wrestle  fora  rooster,  which 
in  some  cases  passed  through  many  hands  before  it 
was  finally  won.  The  programme  was  carried  out  sys 
tematically,  as  if  it  had  been  carefully  prepared. 

After  finishing  the  game  of  gallo  the  horsemen 
lined  up  one  by  one  and  rode  by  another  live  rooster 
that  had  been  placed  in  sand  with  only  his  head  in 
sight.  The  idea  was  to  pick  him  up  while  riding  by. 
Each  rider  eagerly  watched  the  others  as  they  reached 
from  the  saddle  and  tried  to  catch  the  bird.  Finally 
one  succeeded,  and,  grasping  the  head,  ran  off  with 
the  rooster,  followed  by  all  the  horsemen.  He  rode 
out  of  the  plaza  and  over  the  prairie,  up  deep  arroyos, 
and  back  through  the  several  streets  of  the  pueblo,  in 
his  efforts  to  elude  his  followers,  and,  reaching  home 
with  it,  the  bird  was  his. 

Next  in  order  came  foot  races  by  some  of  the  young 
bucks,  after  which  some  girls  tried  their  skill  at  run 
ning. 

It  being  San  Juan's  Day,  every  one  by  the  name  of 


JUAN. 


San  Juan's  Das. 

Juan  was  obliged  to  contribute  something-  to  be  given 
to  the  people.  Accordingly  all  articles  were  carried 
to  the  roof  of  one  of  the  houses  near  by,  and  thrown 
down,  one  by  one,  into  the  crowd  assembled  below. 
Juan,  possessing  the  name  of  the  day,  was  told  he 
must  make  a  contribution  as  the  others  of  that  name 
did.  Accordingly  he  took  some  birds  he  had  previ 
ously  shot  for  our  supper,  and  carried  them  to  the 
house-top.  All  stood  with  upturned  faces  and  out 
stretched  hands  as  one  article  after  another  fell  into 
some  grasping  palm.  The  collection  consisted  of 
pieces  of  leather,  bright  bits  of  calico,  birds,  and  tor 
tillas.  No  one  became  the  actual  owner  of  anything 
until  he  reached  home  with  it,  and  any  one  who  could 
get  an  article  away  from  another  before  he  arrived 
at  that  place  of  safety  was  privileged  to  do  so.  This 
ended  the  celebration,  and  at  sundown  San  Juan's 
Day  was  over. 

75 


A   VISIT  TO  THE  SCHOOL-HOUSE. 

AT  sunrise  the  following  morning  the  governor 
called  loudly  from  his  position  in  the  centre  of  the 
pueblo,  assigning  to  the  men  assembled  in  the  door 
ways  the  work  they  were  to  perform  that  day.  As 
the  different  names  were  called  the  owners  disap 
peared  within  the  houses  to  prepare  for  the  work 
allotted  to  them,  and  hurried  to  the  scene  of  action 
to  do  their  share  of  the  labor. 

After  breakfast  we  decided  to  visit  the  school-house 
near  by  and  see  the  little  Indian  children  assembled 
there.  Arriving  early,  we  were  most  cordially  wel 
comed  by  the  teacher,  Mrs.  Grozier,  of  Boston,  the 
only  white  woman  in  Cochiti. 

It  would  be  hard  to  find  a  more  interesting  place  in 
the  pueblo  than  the  school-house,  a  one-story  adobe 
building  fitted  up  by  the  Government,  under  wrhose 
control  the  school  is  carried  on. 

Of  the  thirty-two  pupils  enrolled  upon  the  school 
'    76 


B  Disit  to  tbc  ScbooUbouse. 

register  the  average  daily  attendance  is  about  one- 
half  the  full  number.  The  parents  of  the  children, 
not  realizing  the  benefits  to  be  derived  from  a  regular 
attendance,  keep  them  at  home  on  the  slightest  pro 
vocation,  to  do  any  and  all  kinds  of  work.  But,  in 
spite  of  this  drawback,  the  school  seemed  in  a  flourish 
ing  condition,  and  about  nine  o'clock  the  little  bare 
footed,  scantily-clad  children  were  seated  at  desks 
similar  to  those  used  in  any  well-regulated  school 
room,  ready  to  begin  the  work  of  the  day. 

While  waiting  for  the  little  ones  to  become  quiet  we 
glanced  around  the  room.  In  front,  with  the  white 
wall  for  a  background,  hung  the  grand  old  Stars  and 
Stripes,  which,  in  spite  of  the  dusky  faces  of  the  little 
ones  and  their  unintelligible  language  when  convers 
ing  with  one  another,  gave  us  a  pleasurable  home 
like  feeling.  On  either  side  of  the  national  emblem, 
and  on  the  walls  of  the  room,  hung  illustrated  charts 
of  various  descriptions,  to  enable  the  little  ones  more 
readily  to  grasp  the  subjects  intended  for  their  study. 
On  a  blackboard  at  the  left  of  the  room  was  a  draw 
ing  of  a  train  of  cars  done  by  a  little  boy  whose  talent 
was  clearly  shown  by  this  well-executed  work. 

79 


Bmong  tbe  jpueblo  fht&ians. 

In  addition  to  the  regular  attendants  of  the  school 
were  several  squaws  who  dropped  in  from  time  to 
time  during  the  session,  probably  finding  the  school  - 
rocm,  with  its  evenly -boarded  floor  and  large  open 
windows,  a  pleasant  change  from  their  own  houses. 

When  the  children  became  sufficiently  subdued  to 
give  attention  to  the  work  of  the  day,  the  opening 
exercises  began .  First  the  Lord's  prayer  was  repeated 
in  English,  led  by  the  teacher,  whom  the  children 
followed  closely  in  broken  accent,  and  with  reverently 
bowed  heads.  "  Come  to  Jesus"  was  sung  by  the 
school,  ana  some  little  voices  were  very  effective  as 
they  joined  in  the  sweet  strains  of  the  old  hymn  with 
the  greatest  of  zeal  and  animation.  By  the  time  the 
last  verse  was  reached  the  room  fairly  rang  with  the 
enthusiastic  efforts  of  the  youthful  songsters.  The 
singing  of  two  other  pieces  completed  the  exercises, 
and  the  children  were  ready  to  begin  their  lessons. 

A  bright  little  boy  was  called  upon  to  read,  and 
from  his  second  reader  selected  a.  piece  called  "  The 
Boy  and  the  Bubbles,"  his  Spanish  accent  of  the 
English  words  making  his  rendering  ()f  the  piece  very 

interesting.      Next  a  letter  from  the  same  book  was 

80 


a  Wsft  to  tbe  Scbool=bouse. 

read.  It  was  dated  "  New  York,  December  loth, 
1884,"  and  headed  "Dear  Santa  Glaus."  This  being 
printed  in  script  made  the  reading  of  it  more  difficult 
for  the  little  fellow,  but  he  got  through  the  task 
very  well,  being  helped  over  the  harder  Avords  by  his 
teacher. 

By  this  time  all  the  children  were  anxious  to  show 
us  their  accomplishments,  and  there  were  half  a  dozen 
applicants  to  speak  a  piece.  A  little  girl  of  seven  was 
chosen  as  elocutionist,  and  she  recited  "  Little  bird, 
little  bird  up  in  a  tree,"  etc.  When  she  had  finished 
another  wanted  to  show  us  how  well  she  could  speak 
the  same  piece,  which  it  seemed  they  all  knew.  And 
so  we  again  heard  about  "Little  bird,"  and  were  as 
much  entertained  as  we  had  been  the  first  time. 

Meanwhile  many  of  the  children  had  drawn  pictures 
to  which  they  had  signed  their  names,  and  they 
proudly  exhibited  them  to  us,  being  greatly  elated 
over  any  sign  of  approval  we  chanced  to  bestow  upon 
them. 

Just  at  this  point  in  the  most  interesting  programme 
the  teacher  was  called  from  the  room  to  answer  some 

call  from  a  needy  neighbor.      Instantly  their  studious 

81 


Bmong  tbc  pueblo  flnfcians. 

manner  changed  for  one  of  play,  and  they  were  once 
more  "little  Indians,"  laughing  and  talking  in  their 
wonderful  threefold  language,  a  mixture  of  Indian, 
Spanish  and  English,  sometimes  in  one  sentence 
using  words  from  all  three  languages. 

At  one  side  of  the  room  some  little  girls  were  gath 
ered,  all  talking  at  the  same  time;  but  as  they  were 
conversing  in  a  language  unknown  to  us,  we  turned 
our  attention  to  a  group  of  four  boys  seated  near  by. 
They  had  evidently  had  some  dispute,  and  seemed  far 
from  reaching  an  amicable  settlement  of  the  case. 
"I'll  bet  you  twenty-five  dollars,"  said  our  little 
friend,  who  a  few  minutes  before  had  read  to  us. 
"And  I've  got  lots  of  money,"  he  continued,  in  ear 
nest  tones.  "Then  let's  go  and  buy  candy  with  it," 
said  one  of  his  more  practical  companions,  evidently 
not  caring  to  carry  on  the  argument  with  such  a  pros 
pect  in  view.  Whether  they  bought  the  candy  or  not, 
we  do  not  know,  for,  her  mission  being  for  the  time 
fulfilled,  the  teacher  returned,  and  order  was  restored 
out  of  the  chaos  that  so  recently  reigned. 

After  this  little  impromptu  recess  the  children  re 
turned  to  their  lessons  with  renewed  vigor,  and  per- 

82 


B  IDfstt  to  tbe  Scbool-bouse. 

formed  the  mathematical  part  of  the  programme.  Sev 
eral  examples  were  worked  by  all  the  class  in  addition, 
subtraction,  and  multiplication,  and  in  most  cases 
they  were  correctly  done.  The  multiplication  tables 
were  then  given  by  two  or  three  of  the  more  advanced 
pupils ;  the  monotonous  recital  of  "  twice  one  are  two, " 
"twice  two  are  four,"  etc.,  being  given  in  the  same 
monotone  that  children  always  use  when  wrestling 
with  these  fundamental  principles  of  arithmetic. 

At  this  stage  of  proceedings  some  of  the  babies, 
whom  the  little  girls  in  many  cases  are  obliged  to 
take  to  school  with  them,  began  to  get  uneasy  and 
long  for  a  freedom  not  to  be  found  within  the  walls 
of  a  school-room,  and  so,  to  pacify  these  little  victims 
of  early  education,  the  teacher  brought  from  her 
seemingly  inexhaustible  supply,  some  much-sought- 
after  candy,  or  "  coack"  as  it  is  fondly  called,  and 
quieted  the  little  martyrs  as  their  older  and  more 
enlightened  sisters  proceeded  with  the  well-known 
truths,  "twice  three  are  six,  twice  four  are  eight." 

The  daily  lessons  over,  school  was  dismissed.  The 
children  reluctantly  left,  those  having  little  charges 
marching  off  with  them  on  their  backs,  while  those 

85 


Bmong  tbe  pueblo  flnfcfans. 

fortunate  enough  not  to  be  so  burdened  ran  off  with 
the  unrestricted  freedom  and  joyousness  of  childhood. 

Accepting  a  most  cordial  invitation  to  have  lunch 
in  the  school-house,  we  seated  ourselves  at  desks  re 
cently  vacated  by  the  children,  and  heartily  enjoyed 
the  meal  cooked  at  the  schoolroom  fireplace. 

Soon  we  heard  sounds  of  muffled  laughter,  and  saw 
popping  out  from  under  the  desks  the  dishevelled 
locks  of  the  little  hero  of  the  twenty-five  dollar  bet 
and  his  philosophical  companion.  They  knew  if  seen 
at  the  time  of  dimissal  they  would  be  sent  home  with 
the  rest,  and  so  by  strategy  they  sought  to  remain  in 
school,  where  it  seems  they  would  rather  be  than  any 
where  else.  So  anxious  are  they  to  get  to  school 
that  sometimes  they  arrive  at  five  o'clock  in  the  morn 
ing,  much  to  the  discomfiture  of  the  teacher,  who  tells 
them  to  go  home  and  come  later;  whereupon  they 
point  to  the  sun,  thus  trying  to  convince  her  that  it  is 
time  to  begin  operations. 

Our  little  friends,  having  obtained  permission  to 
remain  if  quiet,  seated  themselves  on  t*  *  floor  in 
front  of  the  room  and  amused  themselvt.  *  some 

time  trying  to  earn,  by  their  good  behavior,  the  right 

86 


B  IDlslt  to  tbe  Scbool=bou6e. 

to  remain  within  the  hallowed  walls.  But  soon  their 
love  for  fun  predominated,  and  sounds  of  muffled 
laughter  proceeded  from  the  spot  the  boys  occupied, 
as  a  pair  of  mischievous  black  eyes  looked  in  our  direc 
tion  to  see  if  their  recent  outburst  of  hilarity  was  to 
be  the  cause  of  banishment.  Instead  of  banishment, 
however,  their  number  was  reinforced.  As  soon  as 
they  had  finished  their  frugal  repasts,  the  other  chil 
dren  wandered  back  in  the  direction  of  the  school- 
house,  and  stood  in  the  doorway  with  such  longing 
expressions  that  they  were  allowed  to  enter,  babies 
and  all,  and  the  room  had  much  the  same  appearance 
it  had  had  twenty  minutes  before.  But  this  time 
they  came  for  fun,  and  they  had  it. 

During  the  course  of  the  afternoon  the  teacher,  who 
is  obliged  to  minister  to  their  bodily  as  well  as  their 
mental  needs,  had  occasion  to  bring  out  her  medicine 
case,  containing  many  phials  of  sugar  pills.  Im 
mediately  several  little  hands  were  entreatingly 
outstretched,  as  their  possessors  exclaimed,  in  a  serio 
comic  man  er,  "  Mungi  milo"  (very  sick).  But  judg 
ing  fro  _ir  healthful  appearance  a  few  moments 

previous  to  the  beseeching  demands,  it  was  impossi- 

87 


Bmoncj  tbe  flMieblo  IfnDians. 

ble  to  convince  the  dispenser  of  the  pills  that  an  epi 
demic  had  suddenly  appeared  in  their  midst,  and  so, 
laughingly  putting  up  her  case,  she  gave  to  each  little 
impostor  some  coack,  and  they  were  no  more  "  mungi 
mile." 

Until  nearly  sundown  the  little  company  remained 
in  possession  of  the  field,  enjoying  themselves  as  only 
children  can;  then,  bidding  us  good-by,  they  dis 
banded,  going  to  their  several  homes.  And  it  is  to 
be  hoped,  for  the  sake  of  their  indulgent  friend  and 
teacher,  that  they  did  not  consider  the  sun  in  the 
right  position  for  them  to  return  until  long  after  five 
o'clock. 

Returning  to  our  domicile,  we  found  Juan  seated 
before  the  little  window,  making  an  elaborate  toilet. 
A  second  glance  revealed  the  fact  that  he  was  using 
our  brush  and  comb  to  work  some  gun  grease  into 
his  shining  black  locks,  lie  was  putting  on  the  fin 
ishing  touches,  and  seemed  greatly  pleased  with  his 
image  reflected  in  a  piece  of  broken  looking-glass  he 
carried  with  him.  He  had  daubed  his  face  with  red 
war-paint,  and  the  parting  of  his  hair  formed  a 

straight  line  of  red,  from  which  the  greasy  black  hair 

88 


21  Disft  to  tbe  ScbooUbouse. 

receded  in  a  solid  mass.  Not  in  the  least  abashed  by 
our  presence,  he  took  one  more  glance  at  himself  in 
the  tiny  mirror,  and,  being  satisfied  with  the  reflec 
tion,  he  put  the  articles  back  in  place  and  waited 
for  orders. 

Being  too  fascinated  by  the  audacity  of  his  act  to 
give  him  the  warranted  reprimand,  we  sent  Juan  to 
shoot  some  birds  for  supper,  and,  between  laughing 
and  scolding,  gave  the  articles  in  question  a  good 
share  of  soap,  water  and  hard  rubbing. 


SIGHT-SEEING. 

NEXT  morning  we  went  to  the  school-house  again,  to 
take  pictures  of  the  teacher  and  scholars.  The  chil 
dren,  with  whom  we  had  become  great  friends,  were 
full  of  fun  and  quite  willing  to  be  photographed,  prob 
ably  not  sharing  with  the  older  ones  the  superstitious 
idea  that  it  would  bring  them  harm.  They  lined  up 
against  the  wall  of  the  school-house,  and  seemed  to 
think  posing  great  sport.  When  the  pictures  had 
been  taken,  the  little  ones  went  back  to  their  lessons, 
while  we  started  on  a  purchasing  expedition. 

There  was  an  old  Mexican  woman  in  the  pueblo 
who  possessed  many  paintings  of  saints,  madonnas, 
etc.,  such  as  were  in  the  little  house  at  San  Ildefonso. 
Wishing  to  add  one  or  two  of  these  to  our  collection 
of  curios,  we  called  at  the  house  where  the  woman 
lived  with  her  two  daughters,  one  of  whom  spoke 
English  quite  well,  having  attend  school  in  the 

pueblo. 

90 


They  brought  down  picture  after  picture,  some  so 
faded  that  it  was  almost  impossible  to  trace  even  the 
outlines  of  a  form.  Selecting  some  of  the  better-pre 
served  ones,  we  offered  a  fair  price  for  them,  but  the 
old  woman  protested,  saying  she  could  not  possibly 
part  with  them — they  were  sacred.  A  larger  amount 
being  offered  she  seemed  more  inclined  to  part  with 
the  sacred  relics,  and,  when  the  price  was  raised  for 
the  last  time,  she  gladly  seized  the  opportunity  of 
turning  saints  into  gold,  and  sold  four  of  them, 
"  Dolores,"  "San  Francisco,"  "  San  Juan,"  and  "San 
Bicente." 

Being  highly  pleased  with  the  bargains  they  had 
made,  they  brought  out  several  other  articles  for  which 
they  wanted  exorbitant  prices,  but,  finding  we  did  not 
want  them  at  all,  they  lowered  their  figures  until  it 
seemed  as  if  they  would  give  them  away,  so  anxious 
were  they  to  have  us  take  them. 

This  Mexican  room  was  very  different  from  those 
in  the  Indian  houses,  resembling  one  that  might  be 
seen  in  the  poorer  quarters  of  any  town.  There  was 
a  rag  carpet  on  the  floor  (the  rooms  in  the  Indian 

houses  are   not  even   boarded),  and,  besides   several 

91 


3-lmona  tbe  ipueblo 

chairs  and  a  table,  there  was  a  bedstead  with  a  gaudy 
blanket  of  Mexican  manufacture  fora  covering.  The 
walls  were  covered  with  a  cheap  paper,  and  what 
struck  us  as  being  very  peculiar  were  two  frames,  the 
faces  of  which  were  turned  toward  the  wall.  They 
were  looking-glasses,  which  in  the  case  of  a  death  in 
a  family  are  always  turned  toward  the  wall  for  one 
year. 

A  daughter  of  the  old  Mexican  woman  had  died  a 
few  months  previous  to  our  arrival  in  the  pueblo, 
where  her  funeral,  had  been  celebrated  with  great 
pomp,  and  it  was  for  this  girl  the  family  were  mourn 
ing. 

At  an  Indian  residence  near  the  Mexican  house  a 
squaw  standing  in  the  doorway  beckoned  us  to  enter. 
She  had  in  a  store-room,  back  of  the  living-room, 
some  small  images  of  lava  or  malpais  which  she  wanted 
to  sell.  They  had  been  made,  she  said,  by  her  hus 
band  and  son,  who  chopped  them  out  of  the  porous 
stone  with  a  small  hatchet.  They  represented  the 
black  bear,  dogs,  swans  and  geese,  which  are  still 
worshipped  by  some  of  the  old  women  of  the  pueblo, 

who  generally  keep  them  in  hiding  in  the  back  rooms 

92 


COCHITI    INDIAN. 


of  their  houses,  though  sometimes  they  are  seen  on 
the  little  mantels  over  the  fireplaces. 

There  was  also  quite  an  assortment  of  articles  which 
had  collected  for  years.  Flintlock  guns  used  by 
the  ancestors  of  the  present  owners,  and  many  stone 
implements  such  as  spear,  arrow,  axe  heads,  and  old 
mortars  and  pestles  cut  out  of  lava.  There  were  also 
drums  and  gourds  and  saddles  of  Navajoe  work,  cov 
ered  with  leather  and  ornamented  with  brass-headed 
tacks.  Besides  these  there  were  saddles  made  in  the 
pueblo,  similar  to  our  roping  saddles,  having  pommels 
and  rolls. 

Having  bought  some  of  the  stone  implements  from 
the  woman,  we  started,  laden  with  these  and  the 
saints,  for  the  little  adobe  store,  to  get  some  necessary 
supplies  previous  to  leaving  Cochiti  on  the  morrow. 
There  are  two  of  these  stores  in  the  pueblo,  both 
kept  by  Mexicans,  who  supply  the  villagers  with  gro 
ceries,  canned  goods,  cheap  calico,  harness,  and  other 
articles,  which  are  always  bought  in  small  quantities, 
for  no  one,  Indian  or  Mexican,  has  much  money  with 
which  to  purchase  these  luxuries,  as  they  are  consid 
ered.  We  bought  quite  a  quantity  of  provisions,  and 

95 


Bmong  the  jpueblo 

were  gazed  at  with  interest  all  the  while  by  the  usual 
loiterer,  probably  on  account  of  the  unheard-of  large 
sale  the  storekeeper  had  made  to  the  strangers  in  the 
pueblo. 

Returning  heavily  laden  to  our  room,  there  came 
toward  us  into  the  pueblo  a  large  bunch  of  burros 
driven  by  two  Indians,  who  were  bringing  the  animals 
into  the  village  corral  for  the  night.  Raising  burros 
is  one  of  the  principal  occupations  of  the  Indians  in 
Cochiti.  The  animals  are  all  herded  together,  and 
each  person  owning  any  in  the  bunch  has  a  special 
day  assigned  on  which  it  is  his  duty  to  care  for  the 
lot.  The  horses  are  cared  for  in  the  same  way. 

The  Pueblos  get  most  of  their  horses  from  the 
Navajoes,  who-make  a  special  business  of  horse-raising 
and  travel  from  village  to  village  with  droves  of 
Indian  ponies  or  cayuses,  which  they  trade  for  beads 
that  the  Pueblo  Indians  make  in  great  quantities. 
Four  of  these  strings  of  beads  will  buy  a  horse.  Five 
dollars  will  also  buy  a  horse;  but,  strange  to  say,  five 
dollars  will  not  buy  the  beads.  This  method  of  finan 
ciering  was  quite  contrary  to  any  we  had  ever  heard 

of,    but   it   seemed   to  suit  the    Indians,    who   place    a 

96 


much  higher  value  on  beads  than  they  do  on  money. 
This  is  probably  owing  to  the  fact  that  to  manufacture 
them  necessitates  a  great  deal  of  tedious  and  hard 
labor.  They  are  made  of  shells  obtained  from  the 
traders,  and  are  strung  after  holes  have  been  bored  in 
them  with  hand  drills,  then  all  together  are  ground  in 
a  circular  form  with  a  stone  used  for  the  purpose. 

Our  last  day  at  Cochiti  was  spent  taking  a  farewell 
look  at  the  place,  and  in  company  with  Mrs.  Grozier 
we  visited  some  Indian  families.  In  a  house  not  far 
from  the  school  were  two  squaws  seated  on  the  floor, 
shelling  peas,  which  the  Indians  eat  raw,  as  we  do 
fruit;  they  consider  them  a  great  luxury.  The  room 
itself  had  a  very  neat  appearance.  The  mattresses 
and  blankets  which  had  been  used  to  sleep  on,  the 
night  before,  had  been  rolled  up  against  the  side  wall 
and  were  being  used  as  a  settee.  In  front  of  this 
were  several  old  buffalo  skins  with  very  little  fur  left 
on  the  surface,  showing  that  they  had  been  trampled 
upon  for  many  years.  In  the  centre  of  the  room, 
from  the  roof  timbers,  was  suspended,  by  raw-hide 
rope,  a  papoose  cradle,  in  which,  was  a  sleeping  baby. 

The  Indians  are  very  fond  of  children,  and  especially 

97 


Bmoncj  tbe  pueblo  ITnMans. 

of  boys.  When  a  woman  is  asked  the  sex  of  her 
child,  if  a  boy,  she  will  promptly  answer  "hombre," 
meaning  man.  If  the  little  one  happens  to  be  a  girl 
the  mother  is  very  slow  to  say  so. 

On  the  walls  of  the  room  were  bows  and  arrows, 
some  in  course  of  construction,  while  others  looked 
as  if  they  had  been  used  in  killing  birds  and  rabbits, 
a  sport  of  which  the  Indian  boy  is  very  fond.  They 
all  handle  the  bow  and  arrow  with  great  skill.  The 
familiar  Winchester  and  a  belt  of  cartridges,  together 
writh  little  trinkets,  such  as  beadwork  necklaces, 
medicine  bags  and  eagle  feathers,  hung  on  wooden 
pegs  on  the  Avail.  Along  one  side  of  the  room  a  long 
pole  was  suspended  from  the  ceiling  by  a  rope  at  each 
end,  and  over  it  were  hung  the  bright-colored,  zigzag- 
designed  blankets  which  are  obtained  by  trading  shell 
bead-Avork  with  the  Navajoes.  The  black  squaw 
dresses,  also  of  Navajoe  manufacture,  and  buckskin 
leggins,  and  moccasins  covered  Avith  beadwork  and 
colored  with  ochre,  Avere  hung  over  one  end  of  this 
pole.  From  the  ceiling  Avere  suspended  tenor  eleven 
drums,  Avhich  the  Indian  considers  sacred. 

The  beating  of  the  drum  is  not  an  uncommon  sound 

08 


at  any  hour  of  the  night  in  the  pueblo,  whether  at  a 
saered  meeting  in  the  estufa  or  a  gathering  in  the 
plaza.  The  Indian  is  very  reluctant  to  sell  these 
drums.  In  fact,  we  could  not  buy  one  at  any  price, 
although  we  tried  at  several  places.  When  an  Indian 
will  not  sell  his  blankets,  pottery,  beadwork,  or  dance 
costumes,  it  shows  that  he  has  plenty  to  eat  and  is 
thoroughly  prosperous.  Under  these  circumstances, 
if  he  should  give  a  price  on  any  of  his  possessions,  one 
feels  he  ought  to  have  a  mortgage  on  the  man's  house 
before  paying  it. 

At  another  house  three  squaws  were  making  pottery 
in  their  skilful  although  crude  way,  by  working  the 
clay  into  shape  by  hand,  guided  only  by  the  eye. 
The  jars,  after  being  rubbed  and  worked  into  shape, 
are  allowed  to  dry  slowly  before  baking,  which  is 
done  in  the  bake  oven  in  front  of  the  house.  These 
ovens  are  made  of  stone  and  adobe  mortar  and  resem 
ble  in  shape  the  old  beehive.  Many  of  the  jars  were 
artistically  decorated  with  odd  conventional  designs, 
and  one  which  we  purchased  had  on  the  inside  two 
broods  of  game-chickens  and  two  game-cocks.  The 
rooster  figured  quite  prominently  on  much  of  the 


tbe  pueblo  UnDtans. 

pottery,  probably  owing  to  the  fondness  the  people 
have  for  the  game  of  "gallo." 

Returning  to  the  school-house,  we  had  luneh ;  and 
when  the  wagon  had  been  loaded  and  the  team 
hitched,  wre  started  out  of  the  pueblo,  Mrs.  Grozier 
and  the  school-children  standing  in  the  doorway 
waving  to  us. 

On  the  road  beyond  the  river  we  met  some  Indian 
boys  driving  a  herd  of  sheep  and  goats  into  the 
pueblo.  As  our  supply  of  fresh  meat  was  out,  Juan 
selected  a  young  lamb,  intending  to  carry  it  in  the 
back  of  the  wagon,  alive,  until  our  arrival  at  Santo 
Domingo.  He  made  the  purchase,  and  the  boys 
went  on  to  the  pueblo  with  the  remainder  of  the 
flock. 

A  little  further  along  the  road  was  a  tent  filled  with 
bales  of  alfalfa  and  used  as  a  store  for  the  benefit  of 
the  freighters  who  were  hauling  provisions  and  min 
ing  machinery  from  Wallace,  a  railroad  town,  to 
Eagle,  a  silver-  and  gold-mining  camp  west  of  Cochiti, 
in  the  mountains.  In  front  of  the  tent  were  scales, 
on  which  two  Mexicans  weighed  the  bales  before 
selling.  When  but  a  short  distance  from  the  tent 


102 


the  lamb,  not  being  fixed  in  very  securely,  fell  to  the 
ground,  where  one  of  the  wheels  passed  over  its  neck, 
and  Juan  was  obliged  to  get  it  ready  then  and  there 
for  the  provision  bag. 

Pena  Blanca,  a  little  Mexican  town,  with  neat-look 
ing  adobe  houses  along  the  one  street  of  the  village, 
was  just  south  of  the  alfalfa  tent  on  the  road  to  Santo 
Domingo.  The  single  store  the  place  boasted  of  con 
tained  a  United  States  post-office,  and  around  the  door 
of  the  building  a  crowd  of  idle  young  Mexicans  had 
congregated.  The  most  prominent  object  in  the  little 
town  was  the  old  church,  in  front  of  which  was  the 
graveyard  enclosed  by  a  low  wall.  From  the  centre 
of  the  enclosure  rose  a  large  wooden  cross  almost  as 
high  as  the  edifice  itself. 

As  we  journeyed  toward  the  south  and  compared 
the  country  with  that  further  north,  a  great  difference 
was  perceptible.  The  country  grew  more  and  more 
barren  the  farther  we  travelled,  and,  although  on  all 
sides  in  the  distance  could  be  seen  lofty  mountains 
with  beautiful  coloring  rising  majestically  into  the 
clear  blue  dome  above  them,  yet  we  missed  the  trees 
that  further  north  had  made  such  a  fine  foreground 

I05 


Bmong  tbe  pueblo 

for  the  ever-changing  picture.  On  the  way  down  we 
passed  several  freighters,  and  often  old  Mexicans 
driving  two  or  three  burros  laden  with  wood  were 
seen  slowly  plodding  along  the  dusty  road. 

106 


III. 
LIPE  AT  SANTO  DOMINGO. 


LIFE  AT  SANTO   DOMINGO. 

THE  distance  between 
Cochiti  and  Santo  Domingo 
was  not  so  great  as  we  im 
agined,  and  we  neared  the 
latter  pueblo  before  sunset, 
passing  Wallace,  the  railroad 
town,  on  our  way  to  the  In 
dian  village.  The  green 
fields  of  corn  and  alfalfa  sur 
rounding  the  pueblo  were  in 
fine  condition  and  indicated  great  prosperity  among 
the  natives.  On  the  outskirts  of  the  pueblo  was  the 
corral,  where  a  large  number  of  horses  Avere  being 
fed  by  two  or  three  Indians. 

We  went  to  the  home  of  an  Indian  whom  we  had 
met  in  Santa  Fe,  and  who  lived  in  the  second  story  of 
a  little  house  near  the  river  bed.  His  room,  which 

was  nicely  ventilated,  had  at  one  side  an  open  firc- 

109 


Bmong  tbe  jpueblo 

place  large  enough  to  have  three  meals  cooked  in  it 
at  one  time.  In  the  centre  of  the  room  our  friend's 
wife  was  standing,  swinging  a  papoose  cradle  in 
which  a  tiny  baby  was  sleeping,  while  sitting  around 
on  the  piled-up  blankets  were  several  squaws  with 
little  ones  in  their  arms.  We  waited  among  this 
group  until  our  friend  returned  from  work  in  the 
fields,  and  told  us  he  had  a  vacant  house  a  little  way 
up  one  of  the  streets. 

Unlike  the  pueblos  of  San  Ildefonso  and  Cochiti, 
where  the  houses  face  on  a  plaza  or  square,  Santo 
Domingo  is  laid  out  in  streets  running  parallel  to 
each  other.  In  the  centre  is  one  main  thoroughfare, 
which  the  houses  on  all  the  other  streets  on  either 
side  of  it  face. 

Reaching  the  house  in  question,  we  prepared  our 
evening  meal.  In  a  short  time  several  of  the  old 
bucks  of  the  village  called,  and  sat  around,  curiously 
looking  at  lisas  they  talked  with  each  other.  Among 
our  visitors  was  a  young  man,  a  cousin  of  the  owner 
of  the  house  in  which  we  had  located.  He  could 
speak  a  little  English,  and  we  gladly  seized  this  op 
portunity  of  learning  from  him  something  about  our 


ILite  at  Santo  Bomfngo. 

surroundings.  After  taking  out  the  little  square  of 
glass  that  formed  the  one  window  of  the  room  (the 
Indians  have  windows  for  light,  not  ventilation),  we 
questioned  the  young  buck  about  the  house,  why 
such  a  nice-looking  place  was  vacant,  when  so  many 
people  in  the  pueblo  were  huddled  together  in  one 
room.  He  told  us  that  about  a  year  ago  his  cousin 
had  died  in  the  very  room  in  which  we  were  sitting, 
and  that  the  place  had  been  uninhabited  since.  On 
inquiring  the  cause  of  the  man's  illness,  the  fellow 
said,  pointing  to  his  chest,  "  He  was  sick  here,  and 
coughed  all  the  time." 

Not  sharing  with  the  Indian  any  superstitious  an 
tipathy  to  the  place,  but  fearing  there  might  still  be 
some  germs  of  the  disease  in  the  room  that  had  been 
closed  for  so  long,  we  decided  to  sleep  once  more  in 
the  wagon  rather  than  to  run  any  risk  of  infection. 

Accordingly  our  bed  was  made  up  as  it  had  been 
before.  The  night  was  very  noisy,  more  so  than  any 
we  had  spent  in  Cochiti,  for  all  the  dogs  (and  Santo 
Domingo  is  noted  for  possessing  hundreds  of  them) 
kept  up  a  furious  barking,  seemingly  selecting  our 
street  as  a  place  to  give  vent  to  their  feelings.  We 

"3 


among  tbe  pueblo 

slept  very  little  during  the  night,  and  when  at  last  the 
place  partially  quieted  down  the  first  faint  streaks  of 
dawn  wrere  visible  through  a  hole  in  the  wagon  cover. 

Awakening  at  sunrise  we  were  greatly  surprised  to 
see  several  pairs  of  eyes  gazing  at  us  under  the  can 
vas,  from  all  directions.  Seeing  our  covered  wagon 
in  one  of  their  streets  had,  no  doubt,  aroused  the  curi 
osity  of  the  villagers,  and  it  was  in  this  way  they 
sought  to  satisfy  it.  How  long  we  had  been  the  cen 
tre  of  attraction  is  hard  to  say,  but  probably  for  some 
time;  and  even  the  fact  that  we  were  awake,  and 
motioning  them  to  go  away,  had  no  effect  whatever 
upon  them.  In  a  few  moments,  however,  Juan  came 
up  and  told  the  crowd  to  stand  by. 

During  the  morning  the  men  loitered  around  our 
doorway,  talking  and  smoking.  We  were  about  to 
go  around  the  pueblo,  when,  coming  toward  us  from 
the  river,  were  six  bucks  representing  goblins.  They 
were  stripped,  with  the  exception  of  a  flannel  breech- 
cloth  and  moccasins.  They  wore  false  heads,  per 
fectly  cylindrical  in  form  from  the  shoulders  up,  and 
with  holes  in  front  for  the  eyes.  Four  of  them  were 

painted  black  with  white  spots  down  their  backs,  and 

114 


OLife  at  Santo  Bomfngo* 

the  remaining  two,  yellow  with  black  spots.  They 
wore  armlets  of  rawhide  in  which  were  stuck  corn 
husks.  Some  carried  corn  husks  in  their  hands,  while 
others  had  loaves  of  bread  or  tortillas.  Thus  arrayed 
they  appeared  in  the  village  streets.  They  were  sup 
posed  to  have  come  from  the  river  to  make  the  men 
work  on  the  bridge,  which  had  been  washed  away  by 
the  spring  freshets.  The  goblins  ran  through  the 
pueblo  from  house  to  house,  frightening  in  their 
march  the  children,  who  ran  for  protection  to  their 
mothers.  They  chased  the  bucks  to  the  river,  pointed 
out  the  place  where  they  were  to  work,  and  made  them 
commence  the  new  bridge  at  once.  The  river  bed  at 
this  point  was  fully  a  mile  in  width,  while  the  stream 
itself  was  not  over  a  hundred  feet  wide  and  the  water 
at  the  deepest  point  reached  about  to  a  man's  waist. 
The  bridge  consisted  of  quadrupods,  made  from  the 
trunks  of  cottonwood  trees,  in  which  were  placed 
faced  logs,  spanning  from  one  to  the  other,  crossing 
the  river.  The  stream  being  so  shallow  the  abut 
ments  were  put  in  place  without  much  difficulty  by 
eight  or  nine  of  the  strongest  bucks,  who  waded  into 

the  water  and  put  in  place  the  timbers  which  the  other 

117 


Brnonc}  tbe  flMicblo  1hi£>ian$. 

men  passed  to  them.  The  bridge  was  completed  late 
in  the  afternoon,  and  on  the  return  of  the  bucks 
to  the  village  a  large  camp  fire  was  started,  around 
which,  until  a  late  hour,  the  men  collected,  resting, 
and  evidently  comparing  their  ideas  of  bridge  con 
struction. 

During  the  evening  we  visited  some  of  the  people, 
who  most  cordially  received  us  and  showed  us  their 
possessions.  In  many  houses  Navajoe  blankets  were 
hanging  around,  also  buckskin  suits,  and  quivers 
made  of  mountain  lion  skin.  Before  turning  in  for 
the  night  we  purchased  two  Navajoe  blankets,  and 
wrapping  these  around  us,  so  that  the  dogs  of  the  vil 
lage  would  think  we  were  Indians  and  not  molest  us, 
returned  to  the  wagon.  There  was  the  usual  barking 
of  dogs  together  with  a  parade  that  moved  through 
the  village  streets,  making  great  commotion.  The 
sound  of  the  bugle,  the  governor  shouting,  and  the 
beating  of  an  old  army  drum,  could  be  heard  all  at 
one  time.  The  procession  moved  up  and  down  the 
streets  of  the  village,  the  sound  becoming  louder, 
then  softer,  and  louder  again,  as  its  distance  from  us 

varied.     Finally  the   little    company  approached  us, 

118 


IN     HOLIDAY    ATTIRE. 


5Life  at  Santo  Domingo. 

and  when  passing  we  could  distinguish  by  aid  of  the 
starlight  a  drummer  on  either  side  of  the  bugler,  and 
all  three  marching  in  front  of  the  governor,  who  was 
shouting  at  the  top  of  his  voice.  They  passed  us; 
then,  having  gone  the  rounds,  returned  to  their 
homes.  This  parade  announced  to  the  people  that 
gallo  was  to  be  played  in  the  main  street  the  follow 
ing  afternoon.  The  drummers  and  the  bugler  were 
to  attract  the  attention  of  the  people  while  the  gov 
ernor  made  the  announcement. 

Leaving  Juan  to  cook  breakfast  next  morning,  we 
went  to  one  of  the  largest  houses  in  the  pueblo,  where 
several  families  lived  together.  They  had  just  com 
menced  eating,  and  asked  us  to  partake  with  them. 
Accepting  the  invitation,  they  handed  us  small  stools, 
and  we  joined  the  circle.  In  the  centre  of  the  group, 
on  the  floor  of  the  room,  were  two  flat  baskets,  one 
containing  dried  beef  and  the  other  tortillas.  We 
helped  ourselves  to  these,  and  were  each  handed  a 
cup  filled  with  a  black  sour  liquid  called,  by  the 
Indians,  coffee. 

In  our  own  room  Juan  awaited  us  with  a  well-cooked 
breakfast,  which  was  thoroughly  enjoyed,  our  appe- 


Bmong  tbe  pueblo  fltrtiana. 

tites  not  being  in  the  least  impaired  by  the  first 
course  eaten  with  the  Indians. 

After  breakfast  we  went  with  our  landlord  to  buy 
another  blanket  and  some  pottery.  One  buck  on 
whom  we  called  had  several  pieces,  including  a  large 
jar  decorated  in  conventional  design,  for  which  he 
wanted  three  dollars.  Visiting  several  other  places 
in  quest  of  a  piece  with  bird  ornamentation,  we  found 
that  figure  decoration  was  not  characteristic  of  the 
Santo  Domingo  Indians.  On  making  this  discovery 
we  hastened  back  for  the  piece  before  chosen,  and 
imagine  our  surprise  to  find  that  during  our  absence 
the  jar  had  increased  in  value  one  dollar  and  that  the 
man  would  not  for  an  instant  consider  his  first-named 
price.  This  trait  the  Indians  probably  develop  by 
coming  in  contact  with  traders  who  visit  the  Indian 
villages  and  buy  pottery,  blankets,  and  other  articles 
of  Indian  manufacture,  giving  the  poor,  unsuspecting 
creatures  about  one-third  the  value  of  the  articles  in 
beads. 

Having  learned  a  lesson  from  our  last  transaction, 
we  went  in  search  of  a  blanket  to  a  house  not  far 
from  the  one  where  the  pottery  had  been  made. 

122 


Xife  at  Santo  Domingo. 

There  were  several  blankets  hanging  around,  but,  as 
the  owner  wanted  as  much  again  for  them  as  they 
were  worth,  he  did  not  make  the  sale.  Our  inter 
preter  told  us  that  three  strings  of  beads,  such  as  the 
traders  take  into  the  pueblos,  would  buy  a  blanket. 
These  beads  we  subsequently  priced  in  Santa  Fe,  and 
to  our  amazement  found  that  three  strings  cost  just 
one-fourth  the  price  the  man  had  named  for  a  blanket. 

It  had  been  our  intention,  at  the  start,  to  travel  as 
far  west  as  Laguna,  a  pueblo  having  a  population  of 
about  one  thousand  Indians,  and,  being  so  far  from 
Santa  Fe,  one  very  seldom  visited  by  the  whites,  but 
the  horses  began  to  show  signs  of  giving  out,  making 
this  impossible.  Had  they  been  good  ones  wre  would 
have  remained  in  Santo  Domingo  a  week  longer,  to 
witness  a  large  dance  to  take  place  at  that  time,  and 
afterward  travel  further  west. 

Greatly  disappointed  at  being  obliged  to  shorten 
the  trip,  we  returned  to  the  house  to  prepare  for  our 
departure,  and  found  Juan  sitting  on  the  back  of  the 
wagon,  which  he  had  loaded,  talking  with  three  young 
bucks  with  whom  he  had  become  acquainted  during 

our  stay  in  Santo  Domingo.     One  of  the  group  espe- 

125 


Bmonc}  tbe  jpueblo  1Fnt>fan0* 

cially  attracted  our  attention.  His  straight  black 
hair  hung  below  his  waist,  around  which  he  wore  a 
Navajoe  belt  of  oval  silver  discs.  The  silver  buttons 
on  his  buckskin  leggins  were  also  made  by  the  Nava- 
joes.  We  levelled  the  camera  and  were  preparing  to 
take  a  picture  of  the  group,  when  Juan  informed  the 
little  company  they  were  about  to  be  photographed. 
This  they  would  not  have,  and  were  walking  away, 
when  we  handed  them  a  picture  of  an  Indian.  Im 
mediately  they  were  all  attention,  and  as  they  gazed 
at  the  picture  the  button  was  pressed  unknown  to 
them. 

At  the  corral  some  bucks  were  getting  the  horses 
ready  for  the  games  of  the  afternoon ;  and  as  we 
passed  along  the  road  leading  from  the  pueblo,  wagon- 
loads  of  Mexicans  were  coming  from  the  neighboring 
settlements  and  from  Cochiti  to  Santo  Domingo  to  be 
present  at  the  celebration. 

We  drove  on  through  Wallace,  hoping  to  reach 
Cerrillous,  about  ten  miles  beyond,  by  night;  but  this 
was  not  possible,  as,  travelling  until  sundown,  our 
usual  hour  for  striking  camp,  Wallace  was  still  within 

sight.     We  drew  the  wagon  up  beside  a  little  stream 

126 


3Life  at  Santo  Domingo. 

— Cerrillous  Creek — the  bed  of  -which  was  covered 
with  a  limy  substance,  and  found  the  water  not  good 
to  drink,  being  full  of  alkali.  After  boiling,  however, 
it  did  very  well  in  coffee. 

While  preparing  supper  a  young  fellow  rode  up 
and  entered  into  conversation  with  us.  He  had  just 
left  the  mining  camp  at  Eagle  and  was  in  search  of 
work.  Our  meal  was  shared  with  him,  and,  inviting 
him  to  take  breakfast  with  us  on  the  morrow,  we 
retired.  Next  morning  our  friend  was  nowhere  in 
sight.  He  had  probably  taken  advantage  of  the  early 
morning  light  and  ridden  off  on  his  lonely  journey. 

After  breakfast  we  broke  camp  and  proceeded  up 
the  road,  which  follows  the  railroad  for  about  two 
miles;  then,  leaving  the  plain,  we  ascended  the  hill 
and  were  once  more  on  the  mesa.  Looking  backward, 
the  road  over  which  we  had  travelled  from  the  Indian 
village  could  be  plainly  seen,  and  in  the  distance 
stood  Santo  Domingo  Mountain,  enveloped  in  a  thin 
mist,  but  clearly  distinguishable  against  the  southern 
sky. 

After  travelling  slowly  for  many  hours,  a  little  min 
ing  camp,  with  its  derricks  and  shafts,  appeared  up  in 

127 


Bmong  tbe  pueblo  Iht&ian0. 

the  hills.  This  proved  to  be  the  mines  of  Waldo, 
that  supply  the  Santa  Fe  Road  with  coal.  Here  it 
was  that  we  received  our  first  information  about  the 
great  strike  that  had  tied  up  most  of  the  western 
railroads,  and  on  account  of  this  strike  the  mines 
were  not  being1  worked. 

Across  the  ridge,  not  far  from  the  mines,  was  the 
little  town  of  Waldo,  a  well-laid-out  village  with  rows 
of  neat-looking  houses,  the  residences  of  the  miners. 
Farther  down  the  hill  was  the  general  store,  which  is 
under  the  management  of  the  railroad  company  and 
supplies  the  people  with  everything  in  the  line  of 
groceries,  dry  goods,  etc.  We  \vere  greatly  surprised 
to  find  such  a  store  in  a  little  mining  settlement  up  in 
the  hills  of  New  Mexico,  and  also  at  the  quantity  and 
quality  of  the  stock. 

Cerrillous,  a  small  settlement  beyond  Waldo,  is  a 
typical  railroad  town,  with  its  small  hotels  and  restau 
rants,  billiard  and  pool  rooms,  saloons  and  stores. 
On  our  arrival  in  town  several  freighters  whom  we 
had  met  on  the  road  further  down  were  hanging 
around  the  feed  store,  talking  over  the  news  of  the 

day  "with  some  of  the  townspeople. 

128 


Xife  at  Santo  Domingo. 

As  we  had  for  the  past  two  weeks  heard  absolutely 
nothing  of  the  events  taking  place  in  the  outer  world, 
even  this  local  gossip  was  welcome. 

The  most  important  topic  under  discussion  was  the 
scarcity  of  beer.  The  supply  had  given  out  several 
days  before,  and,  on  account  of  the  strike,  had  not 
been  replenished,  causing  a  beer  famine.  Two 
trucks,  however,  had  been  sent  to  Santa  Fe,  and  it  was 
expected  that  relief  would  soon  be  at  hand.  In  the 
course  of  conversation  it  was  learned  that  the  deputy 
sheriffs  were  organizing  a  posse  to  go  to  Raton  to 
help  move  the  mail  trains  that  the  strikers  were  hold 
ing  back.  This  caused  unusual  excitement,  and  the 
figure  of  an  armed  deputy  passing  through  the  street 
was  the  signal  for  further  speculation  on  the  great 
issue  at  stake.  Other  and  less  important  subjects  fol 
lowed  these  all-absorbing  ones  until  our  departure 
from  the  town,  which  was  witnessed  by  a  large  pro 
portion  of  the  inhabitants,  who  had  gradually  collected 
in  the  vicinity  of  the  store. 

The  canon  through  which  the  road  out  of  Cerrillous 
runs  is  very  rough,  large  stones  and  deep  gullies 

sometimes  lying  in  the  direct  path  of  the  traveller. 

129 


Bmong  tbe  pueblo  flndians. 

The  condition  of  the  road  and  the  horses  prevented 
our  going  far,  and  we  were  obliged  to  camp  for  the 
night  when  only  half  a  mile  from  town. 

Realizing  that  the  horses  would  never  reach  Santa 
Fe  at  this  rate,  Juan  went  to  a  little  house,  next  morn 
ing,  near  the  roadside,  a  short  distance  up  the  canon, 
to  see  if  he  could  procure  a  horse  to  take  the  place  of 
our  old  black,  which  was  nearly  played  out.  He  re 
turned  with  the  information  that  the  people,  who 
were  Mexicans,  would  give  us  no  assistance,  although 
they  had  several  horses  grazing  near  the  house. 
However,  they  told  him  that  an  American  family 
lived  a  little  way  back  from  the  road,  over  the  hill. 
Trusting  they  would  help  us  out,  we  walked  in  the 
direction  named,  and  found  a  small  cottage  in  among 
the  trees.  It  was  the  home  of  one  of  the  Waldo 
miners,  who,  being  out  of  work,  was  glad  to  be  of 
assistance  to  us.  He  hitched  his  team  of  sturdy  mus 
tangs  to  the  wagon,  and,  with  the  wrecks  tied  on  be 
hind,  the  journey  was  continued  up  the  canon,  which 
became  narrower  and  steeper  as  we  proceeded  up  the 
mountain. 

The  mustangs  did  good  pulling  over  this,  one  of  the 

130 


Xife  at  Santo  5>omincj<x 

worst  stretches  of  road  in  the  country,  and  we  realized 
that  the  change  had  been  made  none  too  soon,  for 
the  cripples,  being  unable  to  keep  up  with  the  mus 
tangs,  began  to  hang  back.  Seeing  that  this  was  in 
terfering  with  our  progress,  Juan  cut  the  ropes  and 
led  them  up  more  slowly.  At  the  top  of  the  hill  it 
was  found  the  black  horse  could  go  no  further.  So, 
tying  him  to  a  cedar  tree  near  by,  we  left  him,  our 
driver  promising  to  get  the  animal  on  his  return 
next  day  and  care  for  him  until  sent  for  by  the 
owner. 

Through  Carmensville,  a  once  prosperous  but  now 
deserted  village,  we  passed.  It  was  a  desolate-look 
ing  place,  its  buildings  gradually  crumbling  away  by 
exposure  to  the  elements  and  from  want  of  repair. 

From  the  top  of  the  hill  the  old  town  of  Santa  Fe, 
our  starting-point,  was  visible  across  the  plain  many 
miles  awray.  The  place  appeared  like  a  small  dot  at 
the  foot  of  the  mountains,  and,  looking  toward  it  from 
our  position  on  the  hilltop,  the  winding  road  we  wrere 
about  to  pass  over  could  be  easily  traced  across  the 
sweeping  plain. 

The  famous  turquoise  mines  of  New  Mexico  next 


Bmong  tbe  pueblo  UnMans. 

came  in   sight,    and  the    mountain    eontaining  them 
was  resplendent  in  the  sunlight  that  enveloped  it. 

At  Bonanza,  a  little  settlement  of  three  houses  at 
the  foot  of  the  hill,  we  partook  of  the  last  meal  of 
the  trip;  then  we  started  across  the  plain,  and  as  the 
sun  was  sinking  below  the  western  hills  we  drove  by 
the  Indian  school  on  the  outskirts  of  the  town  and 
entered  Santa  Fe. 


IV. 

TAGS. 


FROM   SANTA   FE  TO  TAGS. 

OUR  entertainment  by 
glimpses  of  Indian  life,  dur 
ing  the  past  two  weeks,  in 
duced  us  to  spend  more  time 
among  the  Pueblos  before 
leaving  New  Mexico.  Ac 
cordingly,  Taos  was  selected 
as  being  a  place  of  more  than 
usual  interest,  both  on  ac 
count  of  its  buildings  and  of 
the  battle  that  had  been  fought  at  the  pueblo  during 
the  insurrection  of  1847,  when  the  United  States 
troops  avenged  the  murder  of  Governor  Bent. 

Our  plans  were  made  during  the  following  two 
days  to  visit  Taos  up  in  the  mountains,  seventy  miles 
north  of  Santa  Fe.  We  concluded  to  make  this  trip, 
not  with  a  team  as  before,  but  by  rail,  on  the  Denver 


Bmong  tbe  pueblo  ITnDtang. 

and  Rio  Grande  narrow-gauge  road  to  Embudo,  and 
thence  to  Taos  in  the  mail  wagon. 

With  our  blankets  in  the  mail  bag,  the  cameras, 
six-shooters,  and  a  hand-satchel,  we  arrived  at  the 
station  as  the  train  drew  up  to  the  platform.  The 
cars  appeared  very  small,  and  the  little  wood-burning 
locomotive  seemed  to  do  a  great  deal  of  puffing,  con 
sidering  the  slow  rate  of  speed  at  which  it  travelled. 

Our  fellow-passengers  were  mostly  Mexicans  who 
kept  up  a  steady  flow  of  conversation  in  their  foreign 
language,  making  it  almost  impossible  to  realize  we 
were  within  the  borders  of  the  United  States. 

Travelling  toward  San  Ildefonso,  we  had,  from  time 
to  time,  glimpses  of  the  road  so  recently  passed  over, 
and  in  two  or  three  places  the  exact  spots  of  our 
camps  could  be  distinguished. 

At  the  rio  the  track  entered  the  canon,  and  fol 
lowed  the  stream,  which  at  this  point  flowed  very 
swiftly  over  its  bed  of  gravel.  An  old  freight  car, 
removed  from  its  trucks  and  supported  on  piles, 
formed  the  station  of  San  Ildefonso.  It  was  situated 
some  distance  from  the  pueblo,  which  could  be  plainly 
seen  from  the  car  window.  The  sight  of  the  little 

138 


3from  Santa  tfe  to 

village  brought  back  many  recollections  of  our  stay  in 
the  place,  of  the  people,  and  especially  of  Juan,  our 
late  travelling  companion,  who  would  have  enjoyed 
so  much  our  present  outing. 

Passing  the  pueblo  of  Santa  Clara,  we  stopped  at 
Espanola,  a  railroad  town,  where  quite  a  congregation 
of  Indians  and  Mexicans  had  collected  around  the  sta 
tion.  They  were  seated  on  the  platform,  conversing; 
the  Indian  women  surrounded  by  pieces  of  pottery, 
which  they  tried  to  sell  to  the  train's  people.  At  the 
general  store  and  post  office,  several  teams  and  sad 
dle  horses  were  hitched.  The  store  was  filled  with 
people,  who  evidently  expected  the  train  would  bring 
the  mail  that  had  been  for  the  past  two  weeks  delayed 
on  account  of  the  strike. 

At  Espanola,  several  passengers  boarded  the  train, 
which,  as  it  moved  in  and  out  around  ledges  of  rock, 
followed  the  irregular  course  of  the  stream.  The 
river  had  the  appearance  of  a  clear  mountain  brook, 
of  a  beautiful  greenish  color,  whirling  around  in  deep 
holes,  then  bounding  over  large  stones  on  its  way 
down  the  rough  rocky  canon.  The  roadbed  here, 

where  the  spring  freshets  sweep  away  everything  be- 

141 


Bmong  tbe  jpueblo  flnDfans. 

fore  them,  is  protected  by  breastworks  of  piles,  to 
prevent  it  from  being  washed  away. 

The  train  slowly  travelled  along  the  up  grade  until 
noon,  when  we  arrived  at  Embudo,  where  the  rail 
road  leaves  the  rio  and  ascends  to  the  mesa.  The 
mail  wagon,  in  which  we  were  to  continue  our  journey, 
was  at  the  station,  awaiting  the  arrival  of  the  train. 
Two  mail  bags  from  Santa  Fe  were  thrown  on  the 
wagon,  and  these,  together  with  ours  well  filled  with 
blankets,  made  it  appear  that  the  strike  was  at  an 
end,  and  the  mails  on  the  way  to  Taos. 

The  wagon  was  drawn  by  a  pair  of  fat  mustangs, 
and  driven  by  a  young  Mexican  who  travels,  under 
contract  with  the  Government,  between  Embudo  and 
Taos,  a  distance  of  thirty-two  miles,  and  daily  carries 
the  mail  between  the  two  points. 

We  left  the  station  a  little  after  noon,  the  sun  shin 
ing  brightly  on  the  surrounding  hills.  When  a  short 
distance  up  the  road,  however,  a  storm  could  be  seen 
rapidly  approaching  us  down  the  canon.  The  heavy 
black  clouds  came  nearer  and  nearer,  and  grew  hea 
vier  and  blacker  as  they  approached,  until  it  seemed 

as  if  they  could  no  longer  hold   the  water  in   them. 

142 


jfrom  Santa  3Fe  to 

Then  the  rain  fell  in  torrents,  pouring  in  a  cloud 
burst,  and  giving  us  barely  time  to  eover  ourselves 
with  the  almost  empty  mail  bags  before  the  storm 
was  upon  us.  This  protection,  however,  was  not  long 
necessary,  for  the  fury  of  the  storm  soon  spent  itself, 
and  the  clouds,  passing  over  the  mountains,  left  the 
sky  clear. 

Rinconado,  a  little  Mexican  adobe  town,  was  the 
first  stopping-place,  and  at  the  general  store  one  of 
the  mail  bags  was  left  with  the  postmaster. 

The  road  between  Embudo  and  Taos  was  built  by 
the  Government  for  a  mail  route,  at  great  expense 
and  with  much  hard  labor,  as  the  country  is  broken 
up  by  high  mountains  and  deep  canons.  For  some 
distance  the  road  is  cut  in  the  mountain  that  forms 
the  east  side  of  the  canon.  Above  us,  the  hills,  rising 
perpendicularly  from  the  road,  pierced  the  sky  over 
head;  while  on  the  other  side,  clown  in  the  bottom  of 
the  canon,  the  rio  flowed,  swiftly  eddying  as  it  passed 
on  toward  the  south. 

The  mountain  side  wras  almost  barren,  as,  with  the 
exception  of  some  scrub  cedar  bushes,  there  was  no 
sign  of  vegetable  life.  But  what  most  forcibly  strikes 


Smoncj  tbe  flMieblo  fnDians. 

the  eye  of  the  traveller  is  the  gorgeous  coloring  of  the 
soil  and  rocks  in  the  hills  on  either  side  of  the  stream. 
The  soil  blends  from  a  deep  red  to  lighter  red  and 
white,  then  into  the  greenish  tint  of  the  rocks  that 
crop  out  here  and  there  on  the  surface  of  the  hills. 

In  many  places  in  the  sides  of  the  canon  were  large 
circular  indentations,  made  at  a  time  when  the  bed  of 
the  stream  was  much  higher  than  it  is  to-day,  and 
when  a  greater  amount  of  water,  constantly  flowing, 
caused  large  boulders  to  grind  these  whirl-holes  in 
the  hard,  solid  rocks. 

Leaving  the  canon,  the  road  goes  over  the  hills,  and 
along  the  roadside  are  mounds  of  sand,  which  show 
by  the  deep  cuts  and  gullies  in  them  that  in  time 
they  will  be  entirely  washed  away  by  heavy  rainfalls 
that  frequently  occur  in  the  vicinity.  From  the  top 
of  one  of  these  hills,  the  river  again  came  in  sight, 
and  beside  it,  like  an  oasis  in  a  desert,  lay  the  little 
town  of  Cieneguiella,  in  a  fertile  valley  of  green  fields 
and  gardens. 

From  Cieneguiella  we  ascended  to  the  mesa,  five 
hundred  feet  above  the  town,  and  started  over  the 

wide  plain  bounded  by  distant  mountains.     Through 

146 


FATHER     AND    SON. 


tfrom  Santa  3fe  to 

the  centre  of  this  vast  level  plain  the  canon  contain 
ing  the  Rio  Grande  penetrates,  cutting  deeply  for 
hundreds  of  feet  below  the  surface.  At  the  sharp 
turns  and  curves  of  the  canon,  the  course  of  the  river, 
which  looked  like  a  thread,  could  be  traced. 

Another  storm  approached,  travelling  in  a  mass, 
and  apparently  following  the  course  of  the  canon. 
Before  it  reached  us,  however,  the  cloud  burst  and 
emptied  its  contents  into  the  river  below. 

As  we  neared  Taos  the  country  became  mountain 
ous  again.  The  hills  were  covered  with  sage  bushes, 
and  cedars  of  a  much  larger  growth  than  those  in  the 
lower  country  grew  side  by  side  with  them.  We 
were  fully  eight  thousand  feet  above  the  level  of  the 
sea,  and  could  clearly  distinguish  the  timber  line  on 
the  mountains  around  us. 

Just  before  sundown  we  drove  through  the  town 
of  Ranches  cle  Taos,  by  the  old  church  built  over  a 
hundred  years  ago,  then  on  three  miles  farther  into 
Taos  ;  and  as  the  sun  was  sinking  in  splendor  behind 
the  hills,  our  caravan  arrived  at  the  post  office.  See 
ing  our  well-filled  mail  bag,  the  postmaster,  thinking 

no  doubt  that  the  strike  was  at  an  end,  rushed  out  to 

149 


among  tbe  pueblo 

get  it.  Explaining  to  him  that  we  held  the  key  of 
the  ba«:,  and  would  show  him  the  contents  if  he  so 

c> J 

desired,  he  was  convinced  it  was  not  the  property  of 
the  Government.  In  spite  of  this  he  looked  quite 
crestfallen  as  we  drove  away  to  the  adobe  hotel  near 
by. 

The  hotel,  the  mail  carrier  told  us,  was  kept  by  a 
German,  who,  he  assured  us,  had  plenty  of  good 
Sante  Fe  beer,  which,  considering  the  distance  it  had 
to  be  brought,  was  considered  a  great  luxury. 

The  German  proprietor  proved  a  most  genial  host, 
and,  as  he  ushered  us  in  to  supper,  soon  after  our  ar 
rival,  we  took  the  places  assigned  us  at  the  table,  where 
the  other  guests  of  the  hotel  had  already  assembled .  It 
was  a  mixed  company  that  sat  around  the  board.  The 
village  doctor,  a  young  man  from  the  East,  the  black 
smith,  the  editor  of  the  weekly  paper  Taos  Herald, 
several  miners,  some  gentlemen  of  leisure  about  town, 
our  host  and  his  family  and  ourselves  the  latest  ar 
rivals. 

The  table  was  in  one  corner  of  a  large,  bare-looking 
hall,  at  the  rear  of  which  a  space  was  curtained  off 
for  the  use  of  commercial  travellers,  and  as  the  meal 


ffrom  Santa  ffe  to 

progressed  we  could  plainly  hear  them  making  sales 
to  the  storekeepers,  who  passed  in  and  out  through 
the  dining-room  on  their  way  to  and  from  the  sales 
room. 

In  front  of  the  hall,  beside  the  bar-room,  was  the 
hotel  office,  separated  from  the  dining-room  only  by 
a  light  partition  extending  about  as  high  as  a  man's 
head. 

The  hotel  itself  is  a  one-story  adobe  structure, 
built,  as  are  most  Mexican  houses,  around  a  small 
courtyard,  upon  which  the  rooms  face. 

Our  first  glimpse  next  morning  was  of  the  beauti 
ful  snow-tipped  mountains  glistening  in  the  sunlight, 
with  Taos  Peak,  which  is  twelve  thousand  feet  above 
the  level  of  the  sea,  towrering  above  them  all. 

We  decided  to  spend  the  day  sight-seeing  in  the  old 
town,  and  devote  the  remainder  of  our  time  to  the 
pueblo.  Our  guide,  the  editor,  told  us  many  interest 
ing  things  concerning  the  place,  and  pointed  out  the 
several  buildings,  the  most  prominent  of  which  was 
Taos  Bank,  the  only  wooden  structure  in  the  town. 
Beyond  the  bank  and  near  the  post  office  was  the 
house  where  Governor  Bent  was  assassinated  by  a 


Bmong  tbe  pueblo  UnMans. 

body  of  Mexicans  and  Pueblo  Indians  in  1847.  The 
oldest  house  in  the  place,  now  roofless,  was  built 
about  seventy-four  years  ago,  and  was  the  home  of 
Kit  Carson,  whose  tombstone  in  the  little  American 
graveyard  east  of  the  town  marks  the  spot  where  he 
was  buried.  Opposite  the  printing-office  was  the  lit 
tle  church  of  Our  Lady  of  Guadalupe,  with  the  priest's 
house  and  convent  beside  it. 

In  the  court-room  near  by  a  case  was  being  argued 
by  Mexicans — and  although  we  could  not  understand 
a  word  they  said,  it  could  be  plainly  seen  that  the 
affair  was  creating  great  excitement.  The  trouble 
originated  from  a  quarrel  between  two  Mexicans  at 
a  dance  the  night  before,  when  the  defendant  had 
used  his  knife  too  freely  on  the  plaintiff.  Such  cases 
are  frequent  in  Taos,  and  are  generally  decided  in 
favor  of  the  party  having  the  greatest  number  of 
followers. 


LIFE   IN  THE   PUEBLO. 

NEXT  morning  we  made  our  first  visit  to  the  pueblo, 
driving-  out  in  a  light  wagon.  On  the  road  north  of  the 
town  we  met  several  Indians,  who  had  walked  over 
from  the  pueblo  three  miles  beyond.  These  Indians 
bore  a  marked  difTerenee  to  those  in  the  southern  pueb- 
loes,  both  on  account  of  their  dress,  which  was  purely 
Indian,  without  any  Mexican  innovations,  and  also  by 
their  features,  which  resemble  more  nearly  the 
wilder  tribes  of  the  north.  This  change  is,  no  doubt, 
the  result  of  intermarrying  with  the  Navajoes  and 
the  Apaches,  who  live  but  a  short  distance  over  the 
mountains  toward  the  west.  So  long  has  this  been 
going  on  that  the  Taos  Indians  have  lost  much  of 
their  Pueblo  identity. 

The  morning  was  perfect,  the  clear  atmosphere 
causing  Taos  Peak,  with  its  barren  top,  to  stand  out 
boldly  in  the  sunlight.  Along  the  road,  which,  as 
we  neared  the  pueblo,  became  very  narrow,  were 


Bmong  tbe  pueblo  fln&ians. 

fields  of  corn  and  alfalfa,  and  further  along,  on  either 
side,  was  a  growth  of  willows,  so  dense  that  even  the 
sky  above  was  not  visible;  all  that  could  be  seen  was 
the  side  of  the  large  mountain,  at  the  foot  of  which 
the  pueblo  lies.  Here  and  there  an  esaque  crossed 
the  road,  carrying  the  clear  water  of  Pueblo  River 
into  the  fields  of  the  Mexicans  on  the  outskirts  of  the 
town.  Leaving  the  willowy  bower,  there  loomed  up 
before  us  the  two  great  pyramidal  buildings  of  the 
pueblo,  which,  according  to  the  historian,  are  the  most 
interesting  and  extraordinary  inhabited  structures  in 
America. 

We  went  in  search  of  a  young  Indian  named  Lo 
renzo,  of  whom  we  had  previously  heard.  He  was 
at  home,  and  proved  a  most  efficient  interpreter  and 
guide,  as  well  as  an  agreeable  companion.  He  was 
a  well-educated  fellow,  having  been  graduated  from 
Carlisle  a  year  or  two  before.  Since  his  return  to 
the  pueblo,  however,  he  has  been  looked  down  upon 
by  the  rest  of  the  inhabitants,  who  consider  his 
knowledge  a  great  disadvantage  to  them.  He  told  us 
that  on  the  day  of  his  arrival  home,  after  an  absence 
of  four  years,  a  meeting  had  been  called  in  the  estufa 


Xife  In  tbe  pueblo. 

to  consider  his  case.  The  principal  grievance  was 
that  he  wore  the  clothes  of  a  United  States  citizen 
instead  of  the  buckskins  of  his  brethren.  He  had 
been  told  he  must  change  his  manner  of  dressing, 
and  on  his  steady  refusal  to  accede  to  their  demands 
they  sought  to  force  him  to  do  so.  When  the  council 
meeting  had  adjourned  a  committee  was  sent  to  tell 
him,  the  decision  arrived  at;  that  he  must  either 
resign  his  American  garments  or  be  debarred  from 
taking  any  part  whatever  in  the  affairs  of  the  pueblo. 
He  remained  firm  in  his  determination,  and  from  that 
day  has  had  no  part  whatever  in  the  affairs  of  the 
community.  There  he  lives,  seemingly  happy,  in  his 
little  room  with  its  modern  appointments ;  his  table 
well  filled  with  books — his  constant  companions. 

The  two  great  buildings  of  Taos  pueblo  form  ir 
regular  pyramids,  being  in  some  parts  seven  stories 
high,  each  tier  or  story  covering  a  smaller  area  than 
the  one  below,  to  allow  entrance  from  the  roof.  In 
each  building  over  a  hundred  persons  dwell;  a  whole 
family  sometimes  living  in  a  little  room  near  the  top. 
Besides  these  structures  a  few  small  houses  are  scat 
tered  around  the  place,  but  the  majority  of  the  people 

161 


Smoncj  tbe  pueblo  ITnOians. 

live  in  the  two  main  buildings.  Near  the  most  north 
erly  of  these  are  the  ruins  of  the  old  church,  with 
part  of  the  adobe  walls,  seven  feet  in  thickness,  still 
standing.  This  church,  during  the  revolt  of  1847, 
was  turned  into  a  fortification,  and  held  by  Mexicans 
and  Indians  while  being  stormed  by  the  United  States 
troops,  who  marched  from  Santa  Fe  to  Taos  when 
the  news  of  the  murder  of  the  Governor  reached  the 
Capital. 

Concerning  this  battle  Colonel  Price,  the  commander 
of  the  American  troops,  writes  as  follows: — "Posting 
the  dragoons  under  Captain  Burgwin  about  two  hun 
dred  and  sixty  yards  from  the  western  Hank  of  the 
church,  I  ordered  the  mounted  men  under  Captains  St. 
Vrain  and  Slack  to  a  position  on  the  opposite  side  of 
the  town,  whence  they  could  discover  and  intercept 
any  fugitives  who  might  attempt  to  escape  toward  the 
mountains  or  in  the  direction  of  San  Fernando.  The 
residue  of  the  troops  took  ground  about  three  hundred 
yards  from  the  north  wall.  Here,  too,  Lieutenant 
Dyer  established  himself  with  the  six-pounder  and 
two  howitzers,  while  Lieutenant  Hessendaubel  re 
mained  with  Captain  Burgwin  in  command  of  two 

162 


3Life  in  tbe  pueblo, 

howitzers.  By  this  arrangement  a  cross  fire  was  ob 
tained,  sweeping  the  front  and  eastern  flank  of  the 
church. 

"  All  these  arrangements  being  made,  the  batteries 
opened  upon  the  town  at  nine  o'clock  A.M.  At 
eleven,  finding  it  impossible  to  break  the  walls  of  the 
church  with  the  six-pounders  and  howitzers,  I  deter 
mined  to  storm  the  building.  At  a  signal  Captain 
Burgwin,  at  the  head  of  his  own  company,  and  that 
of  Captain  McMillin,  charged  the  western  flank  of 
the  church,  while  Captain  Augney,  infantry  battalion, 
and  Captain  Barbar  and  Lieutenant  Boon,  Second 
Missouri  Volunteers,  charged  the  northern  wall.  As 
soon  as  the  troops  above  mentioned  had  established 
themselves  under  the  western  wall  of  the  church  axes 
were  used  in  the  attempt  to  breach  it,  and,  a  tem 
porary  ladder  having  been  made,  the  roof  wras 
fired.  About  this  time  Captain  Burgwin,  at  the 
head  of  a  small  party,  left  the  cover  afforded  by 
the  flank  of  the  church,  and,  penetrating  into  the 
corral  in  front  of  that  building,  endeavored  to  force 
the  door.  In  this  exposed  position  Captain  Burg 
win  received  a  severe  wound,  which  deprived  me 

165 


Bmoncj  tbe  flMieblo  fndiana. 

of  his  valuable  services,  and  of  which  he  died  on  the 
7th  in  st. 

"  Lieutenants  Mcllvaine,  Royall  and  Lackland  ac 
companied  Captain  Burg  win  into  the  corral,  but  the 
attempt  on  the  church  door  proved  fruitless,  and  they 
were  compelled  to  retire  behind  the  western  wall.  In 
the  mean  time  small  holes  had  been  cut  in  the  west 
ern  wall,  and  shells  were  thrown  in  by  hand,  doing 
good  execution.  The  six-pounder  was  now  brought 
around  by  Lieutenant  Wilson,  who,  at  the  distance  of 
two  hundred  yards,  poured  a  heavy  fire  of  grape  into 
the  town.  The  enemy  all  this  time  kept  up  a  de 
structive  fire  upon  our  troops.  About  half-past  three 
o'clock  the  six-pounder  was  run  up  within  about 
sixty  yards  of  the  church,  and  after  ten  rounds  one  of 
the  holes  which  had  been  cut  with  the  axes  was 
widened  into  a  practicable  breach. 

"The  storming  party,  among  whom  were  Lieuten 
ants  Dyer,  Wilson  and  Taylor,  entered  and  took  pos 
session  of  the  church  without  opposition.  The  in 
terior  was  filled  with  dense  smoke,  but  for  which 
circumstance  our  storming  party  would  have  suffered 

great   loss.      A  few  of  the   enemy  were   seen   in   the 

166 


TAOS     INDIAN. 


Xife  in  tbe  fcueblo. 

gallery,  where  an  open  door  admitted  the  air;  but  they 
retired  without  firing  again.  The  troops  left  to  sup 
port  the  battery  on  the  north  side  were  now  ordered 
to  charge  on  that  side. 

4<  The  enemy  then  abandoned  the  western  part  of 
the  town.  Many  took  refuge  in  the  large  houses  on 
the  east,  while  others  endeavored  to  escape  toward  the 
mountains.  These  latter  were  pursued  by  the  mounted 
men,  under  Captains  Slack  and  St.  Vrain,  who  killed 
forty-one  of  them,  only  two  or  three  men  escaping. 
It  was  now  night,  and  our  troops  were  quietly  quar 
tered  in  the  houses  which  the  enemy  had  abandoned. 
On  the  next  morning  the  enemy  sued  for  peace,  and, 
thinking  the  severe  loss  they  had  sustained  would 
prove  a  salutary  lesson,  I  granted  their  supplication 
on  the  condition  that  they  should  deliver  up  to  me 
Tomas,  one  of  their  principal  men,  who  had  insti 
gated  and  been  actively  engaged  in  the  murder  of 
Governor  Bent  and  others. 

"  The  number  of  the  enemy  at  the  Battle  of  Pueblo 
de  Taos  was  between  six  and  seven  hundred,  and  of 
these  one  hundred  and  fifty  were  killed — wounded 

not  known.     Our  own  loss  was  seven  killed  and  forty  - 

169 


Bmoncj  tbe  jpueblo 

five  wounded.  Many  of  the  wounded  have  since 
died." 

This  battle,  fought  at  the  old  church,  was  practi 
cally  the  end  of  the  attempt  to  expel  the  Americans 
from  the  Territory. 

In  the  thick  adobe  walls  of  the  ruin,  indentations, 
where  cannon  balls  had  been  embedded,  were  visible. 
Lorenzo  said  that  during  his  childhood  his  principal 
playthings  had  been  the  old  balls  fired  by  our  troops 
during  the  battle. 

From  the  old  we  went  to  the  new  church,  where 
the  Indians  of  Taos  worship  at  the  present  time.  The 
church,  of  course,  is  Catholic,  but,  coming  less  in  con 
tact  with  the  Mexicans  than  those  in  the  southern 
pueblos,  the  Taos  Indians  are  not  such  strict  followers 
of  the  faith. 

The  Indian,  as  a  rule,  has  two  religions;  his  origi 
nal,  which  consists  of  worshipping  the  almighty 
chief,  and  also  the  Catholic,  which  was  adopted  from 
the  Mexicans. 

Many  of  the  dances  performed  at  the  pueblos  are 
merely  forms  of  worship,  or  rather  of  prayer  to  the 

almighty  chief.      The   planting    dance,   for  instance, 

170 


Xtfe  fn  tbe  pueblo. 

that  we  had  witnessed  at  San  Ildefonso,  was  a  prayer 
for  the  success  of  the  crops.  The  hunting  dance, 
also,  is  a  prayer  that  the  mountains  and  streams  in 
the  vicinity  of  the  pueblos  may  abound  in  game  and 
fish.  Thus  a  sacred  rite  and  an  amusement  are  com 
bined;  and  while  the  people  enjoy  it  for  the  pleasure 
it  brings  them,  they  believe  it  will  be  the  means  of 
their  further  success. 

The  Indians  are  a  very  superstitious  race,  believing 
in  all  kinds  of  signs  and  workings  of  supernatural 
powers;  sometimes  avoiding  contact  with  the  most 
harmless  things  imaginable,  fearing  some  evil  influ 
ence  may  be  exerted  upon  them. 

A  common  form  of  superstition  we  had  noticed  was 
a  belief  that  wearing  certain  charms  would  be  a 
means  of  protection  to  the  possessors.  Accordingly 
many  of  the  bucks  wore  in  their  belts  small  leather 
bags  containing  meal,  in  which  were  stones,  carvings 
of  malpais,  pieces  of  turquoise,  or  old  bullets.  The 
meal  is  supposed  to  keep  the  articles  pure  and  clean, 
and  in  constantly  carrying  them  the  wearer  is  thought 
to  be  proof  against  disease. 

Lorenzo  conducted  us  up  the  rickety  ladders  of  one 


Bmong  tbe  ipueblo  ITnMane. 

of  the  great  buildings  of  the  pueblo.  In  front  of 
most  of  the  doors,  en  the  roofs,  little  children  were 
playing,  sometimes  perilously  near  the  edge,  while 
others  were  descending  the  ladders  with  great  agil 
ity.  From  the  top  of  this  wonderfully  built  structure 
a  fine  view  of  the  surrounding  country  was  obtained. 
The  canon  from  which  the  little  mountain  stream 
comes  bubbling  down  was  before  us,  while  toward  the 
south,  across  the  plain,  lay  the  old  town  of  Taos, 
with  the  marble-like  peak  at  its  side.  All  around, 
the  high  mountains  towered  into  the  azure  sky,  and 
at  our  feet  were  the  fertile  green  fields  in  which  the 
country  abounds. 

The  field  north  of  the  building  is  kept  under  culti 
vation  for  the  priest,  who  receives  the  products  of  the 
soil  in  payment  for  saying  mass  at  the  little  church 
near  by.  The  bucks,  headed  by  the  governor,  were 
at  work  in  this  field,  their  garments  floating  in  the 
breeze  as  they  marched  in  file  ploughing  between  the 
rows  of  young  corn.  When  the  work  was  completed, 
and  the  priest's  acre  in  good  condition,  they  shoul 
dered  their  implements  and  inarched  on  to  their 
homes. 


OLite  in  tbc  pueblo. 

Wishing  for  a  glimpse  of  the  natural  beauties  of 
the  surrounding  country,  we,  with  Lorenzo  in  the 
back  of  the  wagon,  started  for  the  canon.  The  morn 
ing  was  beautiful,  the  sky  cloudless,  and  the  bright 
sunlight,  shining  on  the  neighboring  hills,  harmoni 
ously  blended  the  varied  tints  of  the  earth  with  the 
deep  blue  of  the  sky.  The  road  that  follows  the  clear, 
sparkling  mountain  stream  was  very  narrow,  and  the 
growth  of  trees  on  either  side  so  dense  that  in  some 
places  the  water,  flowing  some  feet  below  us,  was  lost, 
to  sight;  then  in  the  clearings,  when  the  brook  was 
again  visible,  trout  could  be  plainly  seen  in  the  clear 
water  that  sparkled  as  the  sun  shone  on  it  through 
the  leafy  bowers  overhead. 

A  short  distance  up  the  canon  we  came  to  a  spot 
by  the  roadside  which  had  been  cleared  of  the  trees 
that  in  former  times  had  grown  there.  The  clearing 
was  circular  in  form,  and  covered  an  area  of  about 
one  hundred  feet  square.  This  spot,  Lorenzo  said,  was 
connected  with  the  hunting  dance,  which  occurs  some 
time  during  the  fall,  when  the  elk  are  bugling  in  the 
mountains.  The  dancers  attire  themselves  in  cos 
tumes  representing  buffalo,  deer,  and  antelope.  A 

177 


among  tbe  pueblo  Ihioians. 

buck  and  a  squaw  wear  stuffed  heads  of  buffalos.  Be 
hind  them  are  a  pair  of  deer,  who  in  turn  are  followed 
by  the  buck  and  doe  antelope,  and  so  on.  The 
dancers  repair  to  the  mountain,  and  the  dance  begins 
on  the  circular  spot  by  the  roadside.  In  a  short 
time  a  band  of  warriors  is  organized  in  the  village 
to  hunt  the  dancers,  whom  they  capture  and  take 
down  to  the  pueblo,  where  the  hunters  and  the 
hunted  join  together  in  the  great  fall  dance.  The 
dance  itself  must  be,  from  what  we  were  told,  simi 
lar  to  the  one  we  had  witnessed  at  San  Ildefonso; 
the  difference  being  in  the  costumes  of  the  partici 
pants  and  the  preliminary  hunt  in  the  mountain. 

As  we  returned  to  the  pueblo  we  could  distinctly 
see  a  storm  gathering  over  the  Taos  Peak,  the  top  of 
which  is  usually  of  snowy  whiteness.  Since  our  trip 
up  the  canon,  however,  it  had  changed  into  a  grayish 
tint ;  and  as  we  neared  the  town  it  seemed  suddenly 
to  grow  black,  as  a  great  dark  cloud,  edged  with 
feathery  foam,  came  slowly  over  the  top,  and,  spread 
ing  across  the  azure  sky,  hid  from  view  the  sun. 
Then  the  vivid  flash  of  the  lightning  lit  up  the  hea 
vens,  and,  subsiding,  seemed  to  leave  them  blacker 

178 


OLffe  in  tbe  pueblo. 

than  before,  while  the  deep  roar  of  the  thunder  re 
echoed  throughout  the  neighboring  hills.  Then,  amid 
the  lightning  flash  and  the  rumbling  of  the  thunder, 
the  clouds  emptied  their  contents  over  the  country. 
Being  of  great  force,  the  storm  was  not  of  long  dura 
tion,  and  dispersed  as  rapidly  as  it  had  gathered, 
leaving  the  sky  without  a  cloud.  This  midday  rain 
is  characteristic  of  the  country,  and  during  our  stay 
in  Taos  each  day  brought  a  similar  storm. 

Next  morning  was  spent  visiting  some  of  the  peo 
ple.  Near  the  little  bridge  that  spans  the  creek,  sev 
eral  squaws  were  washing  clothes  in  the  clear  water; 
while  others  were  bathing  little  children,  who,  when 
the  trying  ordeal  was  over,  lingered  around,  pad 
dling  in  the  shallow  stream.  In  a  potato  field  near 
by,  some  bucks  were  hoeing,  having  just  begun  their 
morning's  work.  They  nodded  pleasantly  to  us,  as 
we  passed  on  to  one  of  the  large  buildings.  We  en 
tered  a  room  in  the  sixth  story,  occupied  by  a  young 
back  and  squaw.  Besides  the  usual  pictures  of  the 
saints,  the  walls  of  the  room  were  decorated  with 
bows  and  arrows;  and  a  rawhide  shield  hanging  on 

the  door  especially  attracted  our  attention.     We  had 

181 


Bmonci  tbe  flMieblo 

tried  to  buy  a  shield  in  Cochiti,  but  without  success. 
After  our  experience  in  Santo  Domingo,  we  had 
taken  precaution  to  purchase  some  beads  that  the  In 
dians  farther  south  valued  so  highly. 

When  Lorenzo  told  us  the  man  was  willing  to  sell 
the  shield,  AVC  offered  the  beads  in  payment  for  it; 
but  to  our  surprise  he  shook  his  head,  saying  he 
wanted  money.  All  through  this  pueblo  it  was  the 
same,  and  our  bead  currency  proved  worthless.  We 
bought  the  shield  at  the  man's  terms;  then,  we  visited 

o 

one  of  the  lower  rooms,  where  a  whole  family  were 
at  home.  Through  Lorenzo  we  conversed  with  them, 
and  tried  to  induce  them  to  have  a  family  group 
photographed  on  the  little  space  before  their  door; 
but  after  great  urging,  only  the  father  and  boy  could 
be  prevailed  upon  to  face  the  much-hated  kodak. 

During  the  evening  one  of  the  guests  of  the  hotel 
called  on  us  in  our  room.  He  Avas  a  man  who  had 
travelled  extensively  through  the  West  during  the 
early  part  of  its  history,  and  the  many  reminiscences 
of  his  life  in  the  wilderness  were  very  entertaining. 
At  the  time  of  his  visit  to  us  he  Avas  working  a  claim 

in  Arroyo  Hondo,  a  mining  camp  about  twelve  miles 

182 


ASTRAY. 


ILlfe  in  tbe  pueblo. 

north  of  Taos.  He  invited  us  to  take  a  trip  to  the 
mines,  offering  to  let  us  dig  and  wash  gold  to  our 
hearts'  content;  but  as  word  had  arrived  that  the 
strike  was  practically  at  an  end,  we  decided  to  leave 
Taos  in  a  day  or  two. 

Accordingly  our  last  visit  to  the  pueblo  was  made 
the  following  morning.  As  we  lingered  around  near 
the  river,  waiting  for  some  bucks  who  had  previously 
agreed  to  be  photographed,  there  came  toward  us 
from  the  stream  a  small  child  carrying  in  both  hands 
an  old  tin  cup,  with  which  he  had  been  playing. 

We  levelled  the  kodak  at  the  youthful  subject,  who, 
on  seeing  the  camera  pointed  at  him,  stopped  in  his 
line  of  march  and  looked  in  amazement  at  having  his 
escape  cut  off.  As  we  stood  by,  afterward,  to  let  the 
little  one  pass,  his  pent-up  feelings  gave  way,  and  he 
cried  as  if  heartbroken.  His  mother,  a  fine-looking 
squaw,  at  the  sound  of  her  child's  cries,  came  from  a 
house  near  by,  seized  the  youngster  by  the  hand  and 
led  him  off,  casting  an  angry  backward  glance  in  our 
direction. 

We  had  previously  heard  that  the  governors  of  the 

pueblos  would  allow  the  children  to   possess  but  one 

185 


Bmong  tbe  jpueblo 

dress,  and  had  frequently  noted  the  absence  of  this, 
the  only  wearing  apparel  of  the  little  ones.  On  one 
occasion  we  came  upon  a  very  small  boy  at  play,  who 
was  apparently  suffering  from  the  effects  of  a  severe 
cold  and  sore  throat.  Not  a  vestige  of  clothing 
adorned  the  well-developed  form  of  the  little  fellow 
save  a  good -sized  piece  of  red  flannel  clumsily  wound 
around  his  neck. 

After  photographing  the  bucks,  who  with  Lorenzo 
had  arrived  soon  after  our  encounter  with  our  little 
friend,  we  bade  all  good-by  and  returned  to  town. 

Having  occasion  during  the  afternoon  to  enter  the 
plazuela  around  which  the  hotel  is  built,  we  saw 
quite  a  company  collected  at  one  end  of  the  court 
yard  watching  a  little  Indian  boy  dance.  His  father, 
a  large  buck  from  the  pueblo,  was  seated  in  the  cen 
tre,  beating  on  an  old  tin  pan  and  singing  the  usual 
Indian  song,  with  peculiar  nasal  intonation.  The 
boy  had  been  dancing  for  twenty  minutes,  and  after 
our  arrival  continued  for  fully  ten  more.  When  at 
last  the  dance  ended  he  seemed  perfectly  exhausted, 
and  fell  in  the  arms  of  his  mother,  who  was  standing 

by  proudly  watching  her  boy. 

186 


HOMEWARD   BOUND. 

OUR  trip  to  Embudo  next  morning  was  enlivened 
by  the  antics  of  a  pair  of  young  bronchos  with  which 
the  journey  was  to  be  made.  The  load,  consisting  of 
five  people,  the  baggage  and  a  bale  of  hay,  together 
with  the  weight  of  the  wagon,  was  enough  to  warrant 
a  slower  rate  of  speed  than  that  with  which  the  young 
horses  dashed  off,  but  they  seemed  not  to  mind  the 
weight  in  the  least.  At  a  sharp  curve  in  the  road 
the  driver  found  it  impossible  to  guide  the  horses 
around  the  bend,  and  the  wagon  was  pulled  over  an 
embankment.  The  horses  then  started  running  over 
the  plain,  and  in  crossing  a  ditch  the  chain  holding 
the  body  of  the  wagon  on  the  truck  snapped.  Mean 
while  the  men  of  the  front  seat  pulled  on  the  lines, 
nearly  drawing  the  wagon  body  over  on  the  excited 
animals.  When  the  horses  finally  quieted  down,  and 
the  wagon  had  been  pulled  on  the  road,  the  driver 

fixed  the  chain  with  hay  wire,  and  another  start  was 

189 


Bmono  tbe  pueblo 

made.  The  horses  again  rushed  off  at  great  speed, 
breaking  the  newly-repaired  chain  as  we  were  de 
scending  a  steep  hill  with  a  rocky  incline  on  one 
side  and  a  high  embankment  on  the  other.  The 
only  thing  to  save  us  from  being  dashed  to  pieces 
was  to  run  the  horses  up  the  embankment,  and  in 
doing  this  we  were  almost  thrown  from  our  seats. 
Fully  realizing  that  to  continue  the  journey  in  this 
way  meant  certain  death  to  the  whole  party,  the 
driver  returned  to  Taos  for  another  team,  and  in 
about  an  hour  a  fresh  start  was  made  with  a  pair  of 
sturdy  grays. 

When  about  ten  miles  from  Taos  three  Indians 
rode  toward  us,  driving  a  large  bunch  of  cayuces. 
They  stopped  as  they  neared  us,  and,  although  we 
were  not  familiar  with  one  another's  language,  they 
gave  us  to  understand  that  they  were  Navajoes  on 
their  way  to  Taos  to  trade  their  horses  Avith  the  In 
dians  there.  They  seemed  friendly,  and  were  much 
interested  in  the  kodak  we  carried,  not  objecting  to 
have  a  picture  taken. 

When  driving  through  Rinconado  a  large  shep 
herd  dog  ran  out  of  a  house  at  the  horses.  Before 

190 


IbomewarD 

he  could  do  any  harm,  however,  one  of  the  six- 
shooters  came  quickly  into  service,  and  with  a  yelp 
the  dog  whirled  around  in  the  road,  like  a  pin  wheel, 
and  dropped  dead  at  his  master's  feet.  The  man,  a 
Mexican,  on  hearing  the  shot,  had  rushed  out  only  to 
see  his  dog  breathe  its  last.  He  threw  both  hands  in 
the  air  and  wildly  shouted  after  us ;  but  as  our  knowl 
edge  of  Spanish  was  not  very  extensive,  we  could 
only  by  his  actions  gather  the  drift  of  his  conversa 
tion.  He  was  thoroughly  excited,  and  his  voice  could 
be  heard  calling  after  us  until  the  village  was  lost  to 
sight. 

Arriving  in  Embudo,  we  boarded  the  little  train, 
and  after  a  pleasant  trip  down  the  canon  reached 
Santa  Fe. 

With  the  mail  that  had  accumulated  during  our 
absence  was  a  letter  from  a  Mexican  lawyer,  who  had 
been  engaged  by  the  Jew  from  whom  we  had  hired 
the  old  horses  to  deliver  the  following  notice : 

SANTA  FE,  NEW  MEXICO. 

DEAR  SIR: — You  are  respectfully  informed  that 
there  has  been  placed  in  my  hands  for  collection  a 
claim  against  you  for  seventy-five  dollars,  in  favor  of 


Bmong  tbe  pueblo 

-  &  Son,  of  this  city,  for  killing  one  horse. 
This  claim  is  long  overdue,  and  your  creditor  insists 
that  the  matter  must  be  adjusted  immediately,  and  I 
trust  that  you  will  at  once  arrange  for  its  payment, 
saving  thereby  the  trouble  and  costs  consequent  to  a 
suit  at  law.  Awaiting  an  early  response, 

I  remain,  respectfully  yours, 


Atty.-at-law. 

This  letter  was  the  first  intimation  we  had  of  the 
demise  of  the  old  black,  who  in  death  was  so  much 
more  valuable  than  he  had  been  during  his  life — hav 
ing  been  purchased  by  his  late  owner,  we  were  told, 
five  years  before,  for  six  dollars. 

Refusing  to  comply  with  the  polite  demands  of  the 
Mexican  and  the  Jew,  we  were  summoned  to  appear 
in  court  the  following  week.  Business  of  an  urgent 
nature,  however,  necessitated  our  return  to  the  East, 
and,  giving  bonds  for  a  representative  to  appear,  we 
left  Sante  Fe.  A  week  later  we  reached  New  York- 
oil  r  trip  a  pleasant  memory. 

A  new  interest  has  been  awakened  in  us  by  the  In 
dian  ;  his  marked  contrast  to  his  white  neighbors,  his 

194 


IbomewarD  JSounfc. 

customs,  many  of  which  date  back  to  the  time  when 
he  was  the  sole  possessor  of  the  soil,  and  the  great 
problem — his  future — make  him  a  subject  of  univer 
sal  interest  and  of  deepest  thought. 

With  the  beauty  and  grandeur  of  our  great  West 
ern  country,  we  were  most  forcibly  impressed. 
Great  sweeping  prairies,  majestic  hills  towering 
heavenwrard,  and  deep  fertile  valleys,  all  combine  to 
make  a  harmonious  and  sublime  picture  that  fills  the 
beholder  with  awe  and  delight,  and  causes  him  to 
realize  how  wholly  inadequate  is  his  power  to  convey 
in  a  full  sense  a  true  idea  of  the  wonders  of  the  West. 


--sMsgssb; 

:Re!erdbooks!!!!ub,!c  ^J^wT 

27Ma^iU-i»-^hlSl^Fr^- 

»  M    L-U 

^^^^-^^rr^e^i 


BERKELEY  LIBBABIES 


0655 


JVJ126782 


THE  UNIVERSITY  OF  CALIFORNIA  LIBRARY 


